#sorry i’m taking so long with my asks my attention got diverted to a different fandom
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could you draw odysseus and penelope ?
the bride and the ugly ass groom
#odysseus#penelope#greek mythology#the odyssey#my art#sorry i’m taking so long with my asks my attention got diverted to a different fandom#though once i start reading the song of achilles the illiad and the odyssey it’s all over for you freaks#hades#just so i hit my usual audience lol
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apologies if you've talked about this before somewhere, but I'm curious- what's your take on watching or not watching s3 of GO when it arrives at some point, knowing what we now know about Gaiman (and have had some time to absorb that)? I think there's wisdom in avoiding media by predatory males that are tainted by their misogynistic worldviews and trying to uplift female creators instead, and I generally pursue that when trying to find new stuff to read or watch (and Gaiman has been on my shit list for things in his work for a while, but I did still find GO diverting and harmless enough to watch in spite of that). but after the fact... it wouldn't bother me to watch it like it bothers me a bit to see known abuser actors in lead roles, because Gaiman's not on screen and he's also (probably) not on set abusing the cast, a la Whedon, so it's not tainted that way. Financially... well to be honest with you I'm not paying for prime anyway, so it's not like I'm monetarily supporting Gaiman anyway. And yet...a lot of people had to look the other way for a long time, and continued to give him flowers he didn't deserve. I feel like that should change something tangibly about the way we approach his work now. All those posts from other fandom women on here about denialists are 'making excuses for an abuser just because we like a tv show' don't sit right with me. Not because I'm a Gaiman defender; I believe his victims completely due to the overwhelming evidence & I think he's a vile little man who deserves to get hit by a bus. But I wonder if that's enough.
I’m sorry that this took so long for me to respond to! I wanted to make sure I got my thoughts in order before I talked about this, so thank you for your patience!
(Note I’m making after writing the below: I noticed I made this more about being a fan of GO in general, not just season 3. Because at the time I’m answering this ask, season 3 isn’t guaranteed so my mind’s more on the fandom in general)
Personally, I think there’s no “right” answer and that it’s going to be different for everyone.
Somebody who came to the show as a big fan of Neil might feel differently from somebody who became a fan of him through the show, who might feel differently from somebody who never cared for him.
For me, I never cared about him, and I don’t even mean that in a “I always hated him, look how smart I am” way. I just mean that I didn’t pay attention to him, because I very rarely pay attention to the writers of shows I like. And as far as the book goes, I paid more attention to Pratchett since it seems he was responsible for most of it. Then of course later on I had my own annoyances with Neil so I actively ignored him. So when the accusations came out, my relationship with GO didn’t really feel much different, since Neil had never been a central part of that relationship. However, I can see how somebody might feel differently if their relationship with GO involved eagerly waiting for a new post from Neil and seeking out all the work of his that they could.
I agree that we should change the way we approach his work. Focus more on how women in his works are treated, for example. I know that I’m even more uneasy about that “stable of ladies” comment from Ms Sandwich than I was before…as well as the fact that there are TWO women in Good Omens involved in the sex industry. Why? Probably because the writer is a creep who feels entitled to women’s bodies.
I don’t think that remaining a fan of GO is “making excuses” for Neil. Making excuses would be trying to find some reason to discredit the women he abused, which unfortunately has happened. I’ve seen people claiming that the whole thing was a “terf conspiracy”, to claiming that it was a tactic to interfere with the UK election, to focusing on what the victims’ personal politics might be and why that makes them bad people. I could go on and on, because people had so many wild excuses for why their favourite male had to be innocent. That’s much different than just remaining a fan while acknowledging that the writer is not a good person, and that it’s possible that his own beliefs have seeped into his writing (again, I point to the existence of Ms Sandwich and her “girls”).
I don’t think it’s right that people on here are demanding that fans of GO cut all ties with it…because the fact is, that if you love something and have been involved with it for years, you likely can’t just drop that immediately. If there are people who can do that, good for them, but I don’t think it should be expected of everyone.
Since this ask was sent, season 3 filming has been paused, presumably for “production changes”. My hope is that Neil is removed from the project, because I still really love the story of Good Omens and I would love to see it completed on screen without him around.
In short, personally I still love Good Omens and I doubt I’ll stop loving it any time soon. I feel like personally, my relationship with the story doesn’t change much, but I understand the people who feel otherwise. And now that there’s hope of season 3 continuing without him, I think it’s fine to be looking forward to it.
Most importantly, I don’t want anyone to think that my continuing to interact with the fandom is me supporting Neil. That was never the case, and it is especially not the case now.
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Break My Mind: Ch. 4
~Coauthored by @zeitghest~
Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach
Description: Gregory must be dreaming this time. No sooner had he come to accept this strange reality where everyone is alive and well, than he’s sent back through time and space to the weekend he got trapped in the Pizzaplex. He’s supposed to help his family get on track for a better future, yet… didn’t he already succeed in his own timeline? Confused but relieved, Gregory drops back into his new life in the mega mall. In fact, who should be waiting for him but Michael, clad in a security uniform and searching for his missing family! Only—the night guard seems a bit more withered than when Gregory last saw him. Not to mention that cold look in his silver eyes…
Rating: T
Read on Ao3
William had let a toolbox drop loudly on the table as he heard Henry’s stark explanation. If Michael hadn't made the eye roll-inducing, incredibly stupid mistake of shoving his Remnant father inside what was essentially steel armor, he might've protested the choice of killing his son. Still, the same boy he used to feed and tell stories to—the boy that people had compared him to for years was a monster. One he should have rid their lives of long ago.
Charlie might not care much for William. Not since his drunken incident... But she was still a bleeding heart. Running a hand through her short and choppy hair, she quietly asked: “You alright, Will…?”
���—Fine. I'm fine,” he insisted, stepping away from the workbench to quickly avoid the discussion. “Let's not speak of it. Gregory, come here, my boy. We should wrap your wrist before the bone sets strangely. Henry? Be a lamb and help me unroll this gauze. My fingers are too round...” Will spoke with a smile in his voice as he tried to focus on the silliness of the situation, pushing the deep-set anxiety and fear of his son far down in his blackened heart.
Will was good with kids. There was a reason Henry had decided to open a children’s entertainment venture with him, after all. He just… wasn’t the best with them all the time. Especially his own.
“I’ve got you,” Henry told him, coming over to assist trying not to dwell on how he’d repeated that statement at nauseam over the years.
“Henry, will you take a second look at these blueprints for me?”
I’ve got you.
“Hen, we need to order more supplies; our stock’s run low.”
I’ve got you.
“Old sport, do you think you could watch my little ones for a bit? I have to get these designs finalized by tomorrow…”
I’ve got you.
“Henry… I-I’m so sorry, I… there’s been an accident…”
I—
I can’t stand you anymore.
That was when it had all ended, their relationship torn apart and never fully repairable. But now, sometimes, flashes of the old William came through… and it was those moments Henry clung to that let him know the good friend he remembered hadn’t always been a figment of his imagination.
“Here, Greg—” With the gauze sufficiently unrolled, Henry glanced to the boy watching him with that intense, silver stare. “—Will’s going to hold your wrist while I wrap it. This’ll hurt, but try not to yell, okay? Bite your shirt or something if you need to scream. We don’t want to attract attention.”
As Charlie, independent as she was, worked on her arm alone, she watched her dad and uncle interact with Gregory. William carefully kneeled as the child trusted the flat of his palm to his fuzzy grasp. The Puppet intervened to help Charlotte, diverting her attention. Her leg springs certainly needed tuning, but for now, Puppet got to work on setting Charlie’s arm back into its own joint. Her friend’s mind just seemed to be in a different state; the last thing Marionette wanted was for her to accidentally severe another connection by accident.
All Charlie could think of was a simple question with no easy answer: why was it so easy for William to be this good person now?
One fateful day it had to be her that he took his anger out on. Sure, she’d be the first to admit that maybe she'd overstepped and made her former uncle mad.
But she thought he loved her like family.
Her gaze was far-off and distant as she observed the tender way that William worked with both her father and their new friend. When Gregory looked as if he was about to cry, a hand shot up to caress the boy's cheek.
“Gregory—I don’t know if you know this, but the last time I got hurt, I told my dog about it,” William began, successfully getting Gregory’s mind away from the pain as Henry wrapped his tender wrist. “Yep—you know what the mutt said to me? He told me: ruff.” He spoke in a deadpan as the tears dissolved in Gregory’s eyes, pain replaced by laughter.
It was so strange how William operated sometimes. As if his own body was haunted by the person he once was, in moments of hardship supporting their little group, only to turn and become cold-hearted the next minute...
The sheer ridiculousness of the joke made Henry snort, though he was quick to correct when William turned that cheerful rabbit face on him.
“I’m not laughing because it was good, I’m laughing because it was so dumb,” Henry insisted, though that sort of stupid humor seemed to be just the thing Gregory needed right now. Will had successfully curbed the tears before they came, and soon Henry was putting the final piece of tape on the gauze to hold it in place. He gave Gregory’s hair another ruffle and stepped back. “Alright, kiddo—all done. Just try to keep pressure off that wrist and it should heal up nicely.”
Turning to check on his daughter, he was pleasantly surprised to see Charlie moving both arms now.
“Oh, fantastic job, sweetheart!” he praised, coming over and lifting her arm to make sure all the joints were functioning properly. “Look at you—a natural mechanic. Makes me a proud papa bear, I’ll tell you that.”
He sniffled loudly and wiped a metaphorical tear from Freddy’s grubby face. Even the forlorn Henry Emily could be funny when the time called for it.
...Henry was a bad liar; always had been. That was why William handled PR and customer service at the diner back in their heydays. Will knew that dumb puns were some of his favorites, even if Emily would never admit to it.
Charlie was distracted momentarily in her work as her father approached her. It was a good thing too; she was going to snap the screwdriver in hand using if she didn’t calm down.
“I learned from the best,” Charlie reminded, side-eyeing Henry with pride. She redirected her anger into something productive—something she could physically fix and see the change in. “Mike really whipped Puppet around badly. She was completely missing screws for her leg joints…”
How Michael was still so fucking resilient after all these years, Henry had no idea. With all the things his rotting body had been through, it was a wonder he still had all his limbs intact. Henry would hate to see the state of him under all those bandages, especially if that glimpse of his face earlier was anything to go by…
“Sorry we let him get you, Puppet,” Henry apologized, his heart going out to the ever-protective robot. In a way, by this point she was like another daughter to him—silent and watchful, the Marionette kept tabs on her big sister’s whereabouts and made sure she was safe. Peering closer at Charlie’s handiwork, Henry gave an approving nod. “Looking good, though! You’ll be back on those legs in no time.”
The Marionette just gave a little shrug. It was her job after all. It didn't matter how many times she broke for the people she loved. As long as they were all collectively okay, then the robot considered her mission successful. Were it not for her and Charlie's unintentional fusion all those years ago, maybe she would've given up—accepted long ago that her purpose had long-since been rendered obsolete. The Puppet waved her lanky hand, attempting to tell Henry not to worry as Charlie found another replacement bolt for her thin joints.
Gregory inspected his bandages, wiggling his fingers experimentally. The swelling had gone down, but with his wrist still immobile, it left Gregory to wonder how long it’d take for the Remnant to help fix the break. Reasonably, it’d only been an hour since his incident with Mike. But Gregory was impatient.
The more he ruminated on Michael's violence towards him, the more his resentment was beginning to grow for the man. Especially as he saw what Mike was doing to the people around him.
What made the Aftons like this? Gregory was far from any armchair psychologist—even he knew that some things like violence just run in the family. Still, though... it hurt to see it happening to someone he loved so fiercely in other circumstances.
“You look mad—are your bandages not tight enough?” asked William, pulling Gregory from the rage he seemed to be stewing in.
“Huh?” the boy asked before actually being able to process what he'd been asked. “No—No, they're great. Thanks for helping with that... I'm just still pissed that Mike tricked me still.”
He was surprised when William placed a careful, plush hand to his shoulder. “Good. Use that anger. Learn from it. Don't let him trick you again.”
“But don’t let it fester,” Henry had to add, sparing a glance over his shoulder. He hadn’t meant to listen in, but they were in a small space after all. Moving back to Gregory’s side, he gently rested a paw on top of his head. “Use the anger, yeah—it’ll help get you past any hang-ups when it comes time to face him. Just… don’t get too lost in it, alright?”
The last thing they needed was another psychotic Remnant-infused kid on their hands….
Henry could see William shifting out of the corner of his eye, but before he could say anything there was a loud bang on the sealed door. Everyone whipped around to stare at the thick metal as a familiar voice came through, muffled but insistent.
“Guys, come on…” Michael sounded half-tired, half-amused. “I’m impressed you tricked Freddy, I’ve got to admit… but there’s only so much you can hide. He’s a smart bear, after all. Now will you open the damn door and hand over the kid?”
“Shit!” Henry hissed, instinctively snatching Gregory into his arms. “Damn it—we need to get out of here now.”
The way they came in was clearly out of the question—who knew how many robot lackeys Michael had by his side. But hopefully that would mean the back way through the stage lift was uninhabited…
Charlie had run out of time to fix her Puppet. There were still so many weak points in her legs. It wouldn't be long until Michael figured out how to bypass the door—being a security guard meant he had unfiltered access anywhere.
“Keep him busy—” Charlie whispered harshly to the others, trying to buy time with money they didn't have.
Gregory's eyes widened at the intrusion. He thought they would be safe here, but Michael turned out to be a much more active enemy to have. It was a shame there was no room for compromise in his heart.
William stood up, moving towards the door as he would say with a roll of his eyes. “What makes you think we have the kid?”
Gregory knew they had to do something. Maybe... Maybe that room was still here; the unused storage space that Vanessa and William bastardized in his own timeline. He scampered to the far side of the room, looking for that fake wall behind the mostly barren shelving unit, pulling manual after manual off the shelves looking for the false one that would open the door.
Michael was busy patting down his pockets in search of the access card he needed. The Master Key would be able to unlock any door, no problem—he just had to find it first. The sound of William’s voice made him pause to let out a scoff.
“Father, please—do you think I’m stupid? I know you’re not letting that little Evan-clone out of your sight again until you’re decommissioned.”
Which Michael would very, very much like to do once he got this damn door open…
“Fuck!” the guard shrieked in a sudden bout of rage, throwing his hands in the air only to slam them hard against the door. Turning to Glamrock Freddy, who was watching him with a concerned tilt in his brow, Michael gave the bear his instructions. “I left the fucking key in my jacket; I’ve got to run back to the office, but you start trying passcodes on the keypad; I don’t remember the stupid code. Do not leave this spot until either I get back or you get in—understand?”
“Yes, Officer Michael,” Freddy replied, nodding his head in deferment.
With an annoyed click of his tongue Michael sped off, shoes pattering against the tiled floor of the Pizzaplex. As asked, Freddy immediately set to work cracking the code for Parts & Service. There was a child inside who needed his help, and he was going to reach him—along with that false rabbit who dared take on Bonnie’s likeness.
William laughed to himself, hands on his stomach as he felt his disintegrating rib bones bend at the effort.
“No, Michael, I know you're stupid—” He'd say as he heard Mike speeding off, as that was something he himself could see him doing. Going towards Gregory, who'd been frantically throwing books and manuals off one of the shelves, he placed a firm hand on the kid's shoulders.
“Calm down,” William intoned, seeing how worked up he was getting. Those few extra seconds spared to them might help in the long run.
“There was a room here! I-I thought maybe....” Gregory attempted to explain, upon seeing the lost look in William's tired and milky stare.
“Son...,” William began, wincing when Gregory began to look desperate. “You can't run from all your problems forever. Sometimes, you have to face them head on. Even if it's scary.”
Before Gregory could protest the idea of fighting Michael, Charlie closed up the Puppet's fabric outer lining, shouting to them that she was all done.
“The stage lift!” Henry exclaimed, frantically pointing in that direction. “If it still works, we can take it up and give them another runaround—buy us some more time!”
Freddy heard the shout, redoubling his efforts to crack the code. He should be able to figure it out with no problem due to his logical processors, but there was this haze in his electric brain that made it hard to access that feature. It seemed Michael’s need for total control had some downsides.
“Do not go anywhere!” he called, blue-tipped claws working tirelessly punching in one number combination after another. “You must come with me, superstar—I only want to keep you safe!”
“Ignore him,” Henry snapped, ushering the group forward. Now that Puppet was functional, she could speed along with Charlie and offer some extra help to guide Gregory on the right path. “If the stage lift works, we go. If not…” His bear face grimaced with all the emotion it could.
If not… they’d have to strong-arm their way past Freddy.
Freddy's voice was convincing, genuinely upset that he couldn't get to him. It broke Gregory's heart to tell the bear “no” when it sounded as if he only had the best intentions for him. Gregory knew by now that this was a mirage, a trick orchestrated under Michael's tyrannical rule.
“I-I'm sorry Freddy!” Gregory called, William scolding him to be quiet as he snatched him up into his arms. “I don't trust Michael—”
“Change of plans—run. We're running now,” Will corrected, looking back over his shoulder as they stepped onto the platform. “How the hell do we get this thing moving, then?”
Charlie knew this would probably be a bad idea; the standing controls were over past the workbench. Abandoning her group, Charlie raced for the controls as William and Henry stepped upon it. It was all ready to launch. All she had to do was slam the button...
Charlie smacked the giant green button with her palm. A pneumatic hiss jolted the platform and sent them at a measure pace above. Far too fast for her to sprint and jump onto it, she watched her family lift above.
“I'll find another way!” she assured them, much to every member of their party’s protests.
“Charlie?! Charlie, god damn it!” Henry shouted, reaching out to grab her. He was stopped from going over the edge at the last second by William's firm grip on his arm, and Henry could only watch as his daughter shrunk out of sight. He shook his head, muttering as he paced towards the center of the platform. “Damn it, she's going to be with them alone! I've got to go back for her; we can't leave her with Michael when he's so pissed...”
As if summoned by his name, the other door to Parts & Service opened with a sudden hiss. Michael was back with the access card, practically shoving Freddy out of the way in his haste to get to the others... but his efforts were in vain. He let out a growl of frustration, seeing the stage lift already slotting into place above. Again, they'd just barely escaped his reach.
Well... not everyone, it seemed.
“Hello, Charlie,” Michael sneered, fixating on his former friend-turned-robot. He'd forgone the mask now, seeing no point in wearing it since Gregory had already gotten a clear view of his rotted face. He'd given up the amiable convincing angle of recruitment—now Michael was hell-bent on brainwashing the kid by force using any means necessary.
And if he could take out a big piece of the competition right now, that would help his cause greatly.
***
The Puppet looked about ready to jump off the platform after Charlie. The fall would ruin any chance of her landing safely without breaking a second time, so Henry was quick to snag a spindly arm while she writhed on the floor, reaching for the person she couldn’t grab as Henry lamented her departure. When the platform slotted into place up top on the main floor, the moment Henry’s grip eased Puppet shot off like a bullet without a word. Their group was scattered, and William growled impatiently.
“Why the hell did she do that?! We could’ve fought them together! DUMB—” William fretted, holding the worried Gregory tightly as he jumped from the stage and into the food court. “Stupid... UGH! We have to get Gregory to safety.”
“I'm not leaving without Charlie!” Gregory hissed, looking back to the stage, fighting William's hold on him as they both struggled for dominance.
“Like fuck you will; Henry, let's go!” the rabbit snapped harshly. The child clearly still didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. Charlie's body may be broken, but in the end, her soul would still be here. Gregory could be lost to them forever should they go back to save Henry's daughter. It all felt like a catch-22, as refusing to save either made William feel...
Well—like a murderer.
Henry was nearly beside himself with conflicted thoughts. William’s line of thinking was valid: Charlie's soul was forever tied to this place so long as Michael was still around to cause chaos. But the thought of seeing his daughter's broken, lifeless body again just—
“...Let's go. We have to keep moving.” He made the decision with a hardened gaze, brushing Gregory's hair as he sped past to take the lead in a quick attempt to soothe. “Puppet's going to help her; she'll be alright. We need to find cover before someone else spots us—I don't doubt Michael will call for backup as soon as he realizes we're gone.”
William couldn't help but feel as if he was failing the Emilys once again with his actions. He tried to tell himself that this was the necessary course, despite how it made him feel.
“Charlie's going to be alright. Alright?” he tried to assure the last two remaining members of their little party. Quickly, he followed Henry, their path unknown. It was merely a matter of moving undetected now.
Gregory didn't care how badly these strange-looking suits smelled. He buried his face away in William's chest to chase away the sight of potential Glamrocks coming to harass them further. Henry told him he was brave... And Gregory wouldn't scream if he didn't actually see any danger heading their way.
If Henry remembered correctly from their previous forays through the Pizzaplex, there was a small storage room behind one of the food stalls on the first level. It wouldn't provide much in the way of protection, but the sheer amount of stuff in there should give amble cover to hide out a little while. Henry led his companions there, only spotting another animatronic at the last second when they rounded a corner. It looked like a flash of grey fur, though he couldn't be certain—and he wasn't going to stay and find out.
Once the trio were inside the room Henry shut the door, shoving a broom through the handles for good measure before ushering them to the far back. Only then did he sit heavily, taking a second to process as he put his face in his paws.
Charlie would be alright.
She was strong, and so was Puppet—together, they were unstoppable.
***
Charlie whipped around as the door swung out of the way. Squatted in a defensive position, she was ready to break into a run at a moment’s notice.
Michael... She had mixed feelings on the guy. Roughly, he was on the same metaphorical par as his father in terms of how much she wanted to punch their lights out. Repeatedly.
“Mike...” Charlie was unsure of the fate that might befall her now. She doubted Michael missed her—hell, he barely missed his own brother after his untimely passing. Though she’d much rather have backup to dole out revenge, it might be necessary to act on her own here and now to save Gregory. She would not let another child die on Fazbear property, no matter the cost.
“Look, Charlie,” Michael began, crossing his arms and slouching slightly to one side. “I don't know why you're still involved in all this—William got an even more tortuous death than you and he's going to rot in that suit for eternity. I made sure of that.”
There was a hint of a truly deranged smile curling the edges of his lips now, those eerie silver eyes locked onto Charlie's own.
“Why don't you just rest? Give up the ghost, so to speak.” Michael let out a soft chuckle at his off-color pun. “I don't want to hurt you again... but I will if you keep getting in my—Freddy, will you stop fucking pacing?!”
Michael suddenly snapped his head to the side, staring down the Glamrock who'd frozen in his tracks. Wide-eyed, Freddy clasped his claws in front of his torso and hung his head, hating that he'd somehow annoyed the guard yet again.
“I am sorry, Officer Michael—I am simply worried about Gregory,” he confessed, and though his words seemed genuine there was a hint of something dark in his eyes. “I do not trust those older models—they are broken, and I fear they cause a great threat to his well-being.”
“That's so true, Fredbear!” Michael replied, sounding as if he was talking to a small child. “Which is why we're trying to get rid of them. And I need your help again—hold Charlie back while I get a head start, will you? They can't have gotten far.”
Freddy was more than happy to comply, nodding as he turned his full attention to Charlie and started towards her with arms outstretched.
Charlie couldn't get a word in edgewise with Michael's psychotic monologuing. She screamed and nearly ran in place as she tried to avoid Freddy's once-gentle arms.
“Don't! We're not your enemies!” she said, though there was no convincing the well-meaning bear. He nearly knocked the unneeded wind out of her with his grasp, her back now pressed against Freddy's chest as he hoisted her into the air.
“MIKE! Please! Please don't do this to Gregory—he's just a kid!” She nearly sobbed from the futility of it all. “Don't hurt him anymore! This can all end tonight if you just—” Charlie pleaded, but her chest plating felt it might burst if she kept struggling and talking in vain. Freddy's grip was like an iron vice, clearly seeing her as a threat at Michael's command.
“I won't hurt him if he stops being a little shit,” Michael responded simply. Satisfied that Freddy had her, the guard turned and began walking off, taking the long way around to the main floor. As the bear followed obediently, Mike lifted his Fazwatch to his mouth—it'd been specially altered to connect to all the Glamrocks so he could control them more easily. “Everyone, the kid's somewhere in the main atrium. I want him captured and brought to me now—use force if necessary.”
There was a chorus of responding growls and affirmations, causing Michael to smirk as he lowered his arm. No way was the kid getting away now.
In Freddy's custody, an annoyed scowl stretched across Charlie’s face as Mike led the two of them towards the surface.
“Could you tell your teddy bear to stop squeezing me so hard?” Charlie joked darkly. “Feels like I'm being strangled again—it's not like I can go anywhere even if I slipped out.”
“I am sorry—”
“Freddy, don't apologize,” Michael snapped, cutting the bear off. “You're not actually hurting her, she's just whining.”
Freddy fell silent, though he did loosen his grip just a tad. Not nearly enough for Charlie to wriggle lose, but enough to not risk crushing some metallic ribs.
This was all for Gregory's benefit, he kept reminding himself. Michael was a guard and had the child's best interests at heart, despite his... abrasive nature. Surely that had to be the case—why else would he be doing all this?
“You're such a bastard, Mike,” Charlie groaned, head hanging forward as she felt less claustrophobic without the unneeded grip around her chest. Now that she could take in more simulated breaths, she tried to goad him into talking more—the best option was to waste his time in favor of buying her friends some instead. “You're wasting your energy, too. We're going to get Gregory out of here. Just you wait...”
Suddenly, there was a skittering ahead; the sounds of something quick hitting the ground in a short run. Whatever it was had darted out of sight, disturbing their walk for just one moment. Charlie felt her mechanical heart kickstart—but, in rare form, not from fear.
“Oh... Oh man, Mike, you fucked up now,” Charlie warned, cryptic as she smirked to herself. She just prayed her hero would be quick, hopefully learning her previous lesson when dealing with Michael Afton...
“What?” With narrowed eyes, Michael peered through the darkness for the new foe. He’d heard that sound far too many times to have any doubt as to what it belonged to.
“Ugh, don’t tell me you got that hunk of junk working again…,” he groaned, slowing his pace ever so slightly and unhooking his taser from its holster. The Puppet caught him unaware last time, and he’d nearly gotten his own limbs ripped off in her frantic scramble for power. She might look skinny and harmless, but she was really fucking tough.
“Freddy, don’t let Charlie go no matter what happens,” Michael said, not even bothering to turn around. He knew the bear heard and would do as he was told. Freddy trusted him implicitly, after all—Mike had made sure of it.
Charlie hung limp. There wasn’t a thing she could do in this cramped hallway. There was a chance she may be able to force Freddy’s arms open, but there was an equivalent chance he could snap her in half like a dry pizza crust first. Before them, the hallway tapered open into a row of costume racks and stacked crates blocking their path. This made Charlie laugh; Puppet was fucking with him. She wondered where the animatronic had gone, but even she could hardly predict her longtime friend.
“Oof—” Charlie said out loud, looking at the tall stacks of abandoned crap blocking their way. She snickered to herself, hoping the inconvenience would piss Mike off the way that his existence did for her. “—Looks like you’ll have to go a different way. You know, unless you feel like crawling over all that shit. Or, maybe Freddy’s huge ass could crush the crates.”
“Shut up,” Michael snapped, grinding his jaw and balling his hands into fists.
Great. Just great. Yet another fucking inconvenience.
It’d take just as much time to clamber over the blockade than it would to turn back and use the stage lift like the others. It’d surely reset by now, and with the other Glamrocks ordered to the atrium Michael would have his choice of robotic backup when he left Freddy behind to hit the button.
…Then again, this could be just what Puppet wanted. Either way, Michael knew he was about to get even more annoyed no matter what path he took.
“Ugh—come on,” he said, shoving past Freddy and his captive as he marched back to Parts & Service. “I’m going the other way.”
“But, Michael—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Freddy!” The guard let out an annoyed huff. The bear was seriously starting to get on his already-fraying nerves. “Damn, did they have to make you so fucking pushy?!”
Charlie began to snicker at him again. This was rich. After so much torture at the hands of the rogue security guard, she really needed to see her former friend’s annoyance in person. In a way, his incompetence was lifting her spirits.
“Wow.” She laughed out with hard roll of her bright green eyes. “Even your lackeys disagree with you. So—are you ready to admit you don’t have any clue what you’re doing yet?”
Charlie knew that this might be poking the bear, more literally than figuratively. She couldn’t care less. He had it coming, and it was her turn to rub dirt in his eyes over this whole debacle. She swore that she could even see Mike sweating in the dim emergency lighting of the backrooms.
“I have a plan; you and your stupid friends keep messing it up!” Michael sneered, stopping in his tracks to point an accusatory finger at her. This was all supposed to go the way he wanted, and yet those springlocked bastards had to show their faces again after Mike thought he'd done away with them for good...
Not only that, Henry somehow made an android for his supernaturally-inclined daughter before he'd gotten skewered, creating two annoyances for Michael to deal with now that the Puppet was back online.
No more, though. He was getting weary of the chase; his body wasn't what it used to be, after all.
Finally, he reached the stage lift, angrily slamming the button to call it back down. He remained in contemplative silence as it returned, only speaking when he walked up the small ramp to get on the lift as it ground to a halt.
“Freddy, listen to me,” he hissed, glaring at the bear. “Keep. Her. Down. Here. You got that? I don't care what it takes. If I find out she got away from you, I'm going to have to reconsider your position as my top friend...”
“You do not have to worry, Officer Michael,” Freddy responded quickly. There was no way Mike would actually follow through on that should he fail this task... was there? He was Freddy Fazbear—he was meant to be number one.
Without further prompting he pressed the button, sending Michael up top while he remained with Charlie down below.
Charlie scoffed; she wasn’t going to stay here for long. For now she was just being hugged too tightly for her liking by one of Michael’s walking murder machines. Charlie heard Freddy claim that he only wanted to keep Gregory safe, but she wasn’t so sure about that. It wouldn’t be a risk she would take otherwise.
There was a moment of silence as she was left with Freddy, as uncomfortable and tense as it was awkward. The bear seemed to take his job seriously. After all, in his mind, kid’s lives were at stake here. Freddy’s naturally good nature was being taken advantage of with whatever faulty program that Mike uploaded to the Glamrocks…
It gave Charlie an idea. Though she doubted it would work, she still had to try.
“…Friends don’t do that, you know,” Charlie put out there gently. She knew it was a long shot trying to convince Fazbear that he was being used. It took Charlie years to figure it out herself, and she wasn’t even brainwashed!
—To her knowledge, at least.
“...I do not know what you mean,” Freddy said tersely, keeping his grip tight and secure as he walked Charlie back to the middle of the repair room. “And I do not think I should be speaking with you, as you are a bad influence, like the others.”
(Oh, if only the poor bear knew how wrong he was.)
***
Up in the main atrium, the stage lift ground to a halt. Michael immediately hopped off, grimacing when he landed a bit too hard for his liking on the tiled floor. Looking around, he was relieved to spot an “ally” stalking nearby.
“Monty!” he called, summoning the gator over with a wave. Excellent—he managed to find the best muscle and the one that fought back the least. “Has anyone seen that kid yet?!”
“Heeeey, Mike!” the gator drawled, walking over with an apologetic shrug. “Nah, sorry—we've been lookin' but we think they're hidin' out somewhere...”
“Of course they are.” The guard huffed, starting off in a random direction. “You, come with me. I need backup now that Freddy's preoccupied.”
“Ooh, Fredbear's in trouble...,” Monty sang, then snickered as he followed along obediently.
Michael simply rolled his eyes. Despite his tendency to provide unnecessary commentary, at least the gator wasn't going to question his decisions.
***
In the world above, Gregory and his new-old friends were making do with the limited resources they had. Gregory had come to realize how little the original suits could do compared to the shiny Glamrocks. Their spring-loaded interiors made them tough enough to stand the test of time—but they stunk like sin and were slow to boot. Luckily, Gregory was used to being around gross things in his life by this point. Even right now, he was surrounded in a dimly lit kitchen dry-storage area with various spoiling foods knocked down in an attempt to barricade the door to get in. It wouldn’t stop the stronger animatronics, but it would give all of them time to prepare…
Things were looking grim, but with a lack of anywhere to go, Henry’s idea of storing themselves away inside the pantry for the time being gave Gregory an opportunity to relax. He felt on edge, but reminded himself that no matter what happened, at least it wouldn’t kill the boy. Unfortunately, there was a chance that he could turn into some emaciated, oxygen-deprived corpse before he hit fourteen.
As he ate chips and cold queso, Gregory sat across the floor from his current guardians. Both were tense and silent; if a few things were still the same as in his original world, Gregory could infer why they weren’t speaking to one another. He wondered how either could stand to be in the same room after the things he found out.
“I think Charlie’s fine right now.” Gregory broke the silence, trying his hand at optimism. “Michael’s probably too busy looking for me… She’s smart; I bet Charlie’s already figuring out how to find us.”
“For sure,” Henry said absently, as if he was just responding for the sake of giving Gregory an answer. Then he blinked, sitting up a bit straighter after if suddenly realizing where he was.
He couldn’t afford to get lost in his head right now. Gregory needed his protection, and while he did trust Will to try and keep the kid safe at this point, with the old Brit solely relying on supernatural power to move his suit it made him less than ideal in quick situations. Henry needed to keep his wits about him—and he also needed to make sure Gregory didn’t get pulled into their depressing aura.
“Yeah, I’m sure she’s just fine,” he tried again, injecting a smile into his voice for good measure. He reached over to gently pat Gregory’s head, nodding to his snack. “How’s the food? I know it’s not The Ritz, but hopefully it’ll give you some energy for a bit.”
“It’s got… flavor,” Gregory answered with a lopsided grin, a stringy, coagulated strand of cheese stretching from the chip to his mouth. “…I don’t know if it’s good or bad. But it’s a flavor for sure.”
William was looking far-off to the door. At first, Gregory hated feeling bad for this man. Yet even if he had somewhat of a sordid past, the amount of times Will had already tried to protect him in this timeline made it very hard not to sympathize. It was impossible to forget the hell William had put him through in his own space-time, but it was quickly growing clear how all these small details added up to change his perception.
“Will?” Gregory called, earning his attention with a slow blink in his direction. “I was wondering if you guys went to the basement a lot…” Looking to Henry, he directed his question openly. “Have you ever seen more ghosts? You know… other than Charlie?”
William’s eyelids fell halfway, as if he was furrowing eyebrows that no longer were attached to the outer layer of the suit.
“Have you…?” William asked, almost accusingly if Gregory didn’t know better.
“I asked you both first.” Gregory was firm, willing to be stubborn if it meant getting the whole truth from them about the resources they had at their disposal. He wasn’t going to play these games with the rabbit.
“Uh…,” Henry wasn’t sure how to respond at first. God, how he wished he could save this kid from all the horrors this multi-layered Pizzaplex had to offer…
If only they’d gotten Gregory out, busted a damn wall open if they had to just to set him free. But it was far too late for that now. Maybe if he’d still been human, Henry would be less forthcoming with information. The less Gregory knew, the less traumatized he’d be at the end of all this. Now though, with those silver eyes staring sharp and inquisitive at him through the darkness, Henry realized the kid didn’t have that luxury.
“…There’s no point hiding anything, Will,” he murmured, fully resigned to delivering unfortunate information. So far, to Henry’s knowledge the only “ghosts” Gregory interacted with were himself, Will, and Charlie—none of them technically “children” when they died, though Charlie was pushing it.
The ones in the basement though… they were a different sort of entity altogether.
“To your first question: no, we don’t go to the basement a lot,” the bear went on, not quite able to meet Gregory’s gaze. “The reason being the answer to your second ask: unfortunately there are other ghosts down there. Three, technically, and… something else.” He glanced side-eyed at Will, not really sure what they should categorize Ennard as. Letting out a sigh, he added: “They’re… not nearly as friendly as us, though. In all honesty, we don’t feel very welcome down there, so we tend to stay away.”
Gregory's mouth twisted in a frown. None of the ghosts wanted to see them? It was a stark contrast to how excited the kids were to break the monotony of it all reuniting with their old friends in his original world.
“So you haven’t tried asking them for help?” Gregory asked, William’s eyes snapping to attention at the kid.
“No. And no, we won’t be leaving this pantry until we’re sure the coast is clear,” William replied, shutting down the idea fast.
Gregory wiped the crumbs from his hand and protested. “But we’re flailing out there, Will! And they have Charlie!”
Gregory and William stood now in a stand-off. The looks that they sent one another were haunting reflections of the past. It was like William was speaking to his own kid, the same challenging look he would give his kin over little disagreements, if not just a slight more measured when observing Gregory.
“Charlie will be fine. I—we can’t lose you, Gregory! I won’t do it again…” William sounded increasingly more upset. It wasn’t rage, as he never raised his voice, but his raspy cadence cracked with the strain in it. “Sit down and eat your crisps. We’re not asking poltergeists for help while you’re still hurt.”
Gregory crossed his arms and parked his butt on the hard floor.
“They’re chips…,” he grumbled; the tough love was new, especially coming from William Afton.
“Greg, have some compassion—Will’s British, he can’t help it,” Henry remarked, his tone surprisingly unbothered for such a tense conversation. He’d only been half-listening to the bickering, the gears in his mind turning as he mulled over their circumstances.
As usual, the kid had a point. Besides the fact it was driving him crazy to sit in this room doing nothing while his daughter was out dealing with who knows what, it would be a good idea to recruit others to their cause…
“…Look,” Henry began after a heavy silence, and he could feel the scathing look William’s emaciated face was giving him under that bunny mask. “I’m not saying it’s a good idea—and lord knows they’re not going to be happy about us bothering them, but… we can’t stay in this pantry forever. Sooner or later, one of those animatronics is going to bust down that door, and I’d much rather at least be trying to get ahead instead of being sitting ducks for Michael’s amusement.”
He looked to Gregory then, gaze serious as he rested a paw on his knee. “Greg, you’ve got to understand—these spirits are angry. It’s might not be easy trying to hold a civil conversation with them, let alone asking them for help… although at least they all hate Mike as much as the rest of us, so it’s possible. No matter what happens Will and I will protect you, but it might be rough down there—do you think you can handle that?”
Gregory’s long frown at being told “no” flipped upright at Henry’s joke. William had heard it all before—this was just a reused quip in Emily’s comedy repertoire. Though, he couldn’t lie that it may have made him smirk internally.
When Gregory processed just how pissed these ghosts might be, he remembered his first encounter with Cassidy. She was a spitfire who only managed to calm down a fraction once he got to know her.
“I can handle it; promise,” Gregory said with certainty. He capped up his jar of fake cheese and tossed the bag of chips aside.
William was compliant, though he really didn’t like this plan at all. If he had it his way, they would all be sitting barricaded in this room and pretending as if a manhunt for their blood wasn’t going on in the outside world. Yet here he was lumbering towards the makeshift wall he made and grumbling. “I think you’re both nuts.”
But then again, these little luck-based plans were getting them progress. He begun to move aside the barricade, tossing things out of the way and placing the wire frame shelving upright again to free their path.
“Took you this long to figure that out?” Henry quipped, standing to help William move things out of the way. This was good. Everyone was on the same page now, and they had a semblance of a plan. They were going to get through this.
Unbeknownst to the hopeful trio, the manhunt for Gregory was far closer than they wanted it to be. The sound-proof pantry may have kept them hidden, but it had the unintentional effect of blocking sound for them, too... and with Gregory not hooked into this Pizzaplex’s camera system, they had no way to tell that their presence had been noticed.
“Mike—” The gator stopped in his tracks, placing a hand on the guard’s shoulder and cocking his head as he spoke in a low whisper. He wasn’t on par with Roxanne, but even Monty’s advanced hearing could pick up on such noise from just around the corner. “—I think I hear somethin’… like heavy stuff movin’ around.”
William looked around, peering into the kitchen area with a cautious glance. He then held the door for his party to move through. Looking to Henry specifically, he told them: “Age before beauty; after you Hen,” in a playful manner. He may not be the best one to stay optimistic at times, but he wasn’t going to bring down Gregory’s excitement for his new plan.
Gregory had already been in front of Henry, closest to William. He rolled his eyes and told them with a teasing laugh: “You’re both old as hell!”
He came through the doorway and into the kitchen prep area… Only to freeze at the shadow peering at them from behind the door.
There were in fact two shadows, but the smaller one was near-impossible to see with Monty’s hulking frame backlit behind him. Only the dull, incandescent silver eyes gave any indication that their worst enemy was standing directly in their way.
“Hello again,” Michael remarked in a tone as casual as if they were discussing the weather.
“No, no, no!” Henry hissed, instinctively throwing Gregory behind him. Sandwiched between the two first generation springlock suits, the boy was surrounded by fuzzy-coated layers of pissed off steel and bone.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Michael mocked, taking a step forward. He paused when Henry slouched in a more defensive pose, raising his palms half-heartedly and speaking in a deadpan tone. “Oh no, someone’s angry…”
Then he spit out a laugh, lowering his hands to his hips. “If it’s any consolation, Charlie was still functional when I left her; I didn’t feel the need to ‘kill her’ again for no apparent reason��she’s already been through that enough.”
His glowing gaze flickered to William, evil and taunting. Michael knew he should just grab the kid and go before they got any ideas, but he couldn’t help rub salt in old wounds. Besides, it’s not like his father could hurt him from that death trap of a suit.
Gregory was beginning to hate the semi-decomposed smirk of Michael Afton, and just when his fear of Monty had finally ebbed, he was reminded of how formidable of an enemy the gator once was. Squished between his only remaining friends, Gregory watched as William glared hard at his son.
“You spiteful little shit…,” William growled, likely not making their situation any better. Sure, Michael was laughing now, but William had an edge he didn’t know about. “Did you come here just to be a smarmy jerk? Or are you going to give up?”
William always considered himself good at bluffing, even despite being dealt a bad hand and backed into the corner of the kitchen. Gregory peeked out behind Henry, grasping onto his grungy fur as William backed them further, putting space between them and the enemy.
“Mike—please just leave me alone…,” the boy begged.
“No can do, kid,” Michael replied with a shake of his head. “You’re just too good of an ally to pass up—so if you’re not going to join me willingly, we’ll just have do it the hard way.” He lifted his Fazwatch to his mouth. “Roxy, Chica—the child is by the first floor kitchen. Get here asap.”
“Michael!” Henry snapped, as if his harsh tone would actually do anything to sway the guard’s mission. As expected, Michael simply turned his head towards the old bear and scoffed.
“Come on, Henry—you think I’ll listen to you? I don’t even listen to my real dad. Monty?” Snapping his fingers, he pointed to the little face peering out from behind the springlock bear. “Get him.”
Henry growled, reaching an arm behind him protectively when the gator started forward.
“Hey, I don’t wanna hurt ya, buddy,” Monty said with a demented grin, claws outstretched as he stalked towards them. “Just gimme the kid and we can aaaaall forget this and play a game of golf together—how’s that sound?”
“Fuck off,” Henry snapped, totally at his wits end. This made Monty pause, but only for a second before moving again with a raucous laugh.
“My profanity filter’s disabled too, dumbass; you don’t scare me!” His gaze dropped to Gregory, red eyes peering through his dark shades. “Get over here, little guy…”
William knew he was in between a rock and a hard place now. He could push Monty off and choose to fight him, but that would give Michael the perfect opportunity to strike with his taser. If he attacked Michael in the hopes that Monty would pull back to help his “friend,” he risked leaving Henry and Gregory open for attack…
It was too late; the choice was being made for him. The once-passive bunny lurched forward to give Monty a hard push at his shoulders, aiming to knock him into Michael with the hopes of incapacitating him long enough for their escape. Paws collided with thick shoulder pads as William forced his limbs to move unaided by long-rusted mechanisms.
Gregory couldn’t bear to watch it all; he yelled and buried his face into the disgusting fur-suit holding him protectively. “NO! I don’t want to go!”
Michael was expecting something to snap the tension like a twig, so he was able to avoid Monty ramming into him when shoved back by William’s surprise attack. He had to jump out of the way though, which gave Henry just enough time to snatch Gregory up and book it. They rushed through the kitchens, out into the main atrium where they could head for—
There was a snarl to Henry’s left, and he only had a split-second to react before a lightning-fast grey and red blur slammed into his side. With a shout Henry practically threw Gregory into the air, not wanting to crush the poor kid as he went down heavily on his stomach.
Damn these old suits—they were so much more effort to maneuver than the sleek Glamrocks.
“N-No—no, Gregory, run!” Henry yelled, trying to shove off the wolf who was doing her best to rend his suit to pieces with her sharp claws.
But it was too late.
Before the kid could even think about abandoning his guardians, there was a fizzle of electricity and Gregory crashed onto the floor in a heap. Michael stood above him, a sneer on his face as the taser crackled in his hand.
“You fucking bastard!” Henry shrieked, painstakingly trying to right himself. Michael let out a short laugh and hooked the weapon back into his belt.
“I didn’t kill him, relax,” the zombie said with a roll of his eyes, bending down to pick Gregory up and roughly throw the kid over his shoulder. “He’s just taking a nap. No time to chat, though; we’ve got things to do. See you around!”
Giving the old bear a jaunty salute, Michael turned and sped off towards the Fazerblast office with his prize, leaving Henry on the floor trying vainly to fight off Roxy. He could hear Will still struggling with the huge gator inside the kitchen, and it sounded like Monty was winning. Henry could help, get them both free so they could find Gregory together…
But just when Henry thought he might be getting the upper hand, Chica appeared and forced him back into submission on the floor. With a deep, gut-wrenching drop in the pit of his stomach, Henry realized they might have lost yet another child to Michael Afton’s madness.
Gregory didn’t even know what happened. The pain from the taser left him blacking out as soon as the metal barbs shot into his skin. Now in the not so gentle caress of Michael’s shoulder, he slept with his startling silver eyes open at attention. It left him staring blankly after his friends—those who still fought to get him back.
“MICHAEL! Don’t do this!” William called, his fists locked with Monty’s as the gator set on bending his wrists back. He wasn’t going to be enough—William did his best to plant his feet as Gregory and his son vanished from sight.
“Gregory!” he called pitifully, glancing sidelong to see the state of Henry being shredded by Roxy’s claws. It was then when he saw his former best friend being dismantled before his eyes that William’s courage wavered. He was pushed onto his back, now parallel to Henry on the ground.
They might not make it out of this one unscathed…
***
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#fnaf security breach#fnaf sb#fnaf#fnaf au#five nights at freddy's#charlie emily#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#angelofrainfrogs#zeitghest#spend the night#the wires that bind us au#break my mind#fnaf gregory#william afton#henry emily#glamrock freddy#puppet fnaf#glamrock chica#montgomery gator#monty gator#roxanne wolf
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NedSpa for 22?
a 🍪 and a forehead smoochie for anon!
Rest
A voice, somehow so loud yet so soft, penetrates the sanctity of his dreams and cries out to him, “Wake up!”, a command that startles him so violently that he nearly falls right out of his chair.
It takes him a moment to realise and remember where he is: at home, at the kitchen table, at ease. Antonio takes a breath. His eyes find Abel through the haze.
“Sorry,” he says, apologising meekly for what he assumes must have been another bout of microsleep. He’s been having those more often lately, and always at such rude and inconvenient times. “You were… saying something? Before?”
Abel, however, seems to already be over their previous conversation. Their dinner continues to cook in the background, sauce simmering away along with the other’s patience.
“This isn’t good for you,” Abel remarks after the pause.
“Tell me about it,” Antonio returns, trying (perhaps futilely) to keep the mood light, “I don’t think I can take many more heart attacks before I drop dead for good…”
“I’m not joking.”
“Neither am I.”
“Antonio.”
It’s stern, sharp, serious. It’s all the things that Antonio doesn’t want—things he knew were coming.
“How much sleep did you get last night?” Abel asks him over the table. This has become an interrogation, and Antonio is not really a willing participant.
He says, “I got as much as my body let me have,” and diverts his attention towards the food. The potatoes are still boiling. He wishes they’d boil over and give him an excuse to get up, to keep busy, to do anything other than this again.
“You still haven’t gone to see a doctor, I take it,” Abel muses, not really needing an answer. "Is there a reason?"
Antonio bites back a sigh. "You know," he says, "that human doctors can only do so much for us."
"Hasn't stopped you from popping pills before."
"That—"
Antonio is stunned. He's impressed, but also wounded.
"That's beside the point," he replies, struggling to stay composed. "A doctor can never find the problem. They just give us a temporary fix and usher us back out of the office…"
Abel hums. "Then maybe you need a different kind of doctor."
"…That's not fair."
"They might help."
"You promised me you'd never bring it up."
"I only promised you that when I thought you were doing better," Abel tells him sordidly, however. He doesn't say it in a mean way. He doesn’t… mean harm, or to cause upset. He's doing it because he cares, Antonio reasons with himself, even if… that doesn't make it easier to listen to. "You've gone to one before," Abel adds, "you'd know if it helps."
"I don't need to see a— a shrink," Antonio asserts, wary. "I'm okay. It isn't unusual for people like us to struggle sleeping! Even you have your moments—!"
"I wouldn't suggest it," Abel bats back, "if I wasn't worried."
It's like a final blow, a final strike—the last nail in the coffin that Antonio finds himself lying in, barely able to breathe. Abel doesn't look angry. He doesn't look disappointed. He just looks… tired. Tired, like Antonio, yet in such a different way.
This is a back-and-forth they've been having for a while. Antonio knows Abel is only trying to look out for him (mostly because the Spaniard gave up on doing so himself a long time ago) and he wishes the other would lose his compassion, sometimes. He didn't deserve the care. He didn't deserve the concern. And especially not from him.
The pot bubbles. The water sputters and begins to spill. Antonio silently thanks the universe for its intervention and gets out of his chair in a hurry to rescue his stove. Only, in the process, he knocks his knee, kicks the table leg, and almost trips over his own feet; Abel is quick to prevent him from toppling over (God, why did you have to make him so… him?) and tells Antonio to sit back down before he hurts himself.
Antonio has neither the energy nor willpower to argue with him further.
Abel takes the potatoes off of the heat and turns down the ring. He mutters to himself—no doubt huffing about the mess he'll insist on cleaning himself—and Antonio in the meantime settles again at the table, elbows up, head in hand.
He… understands, to some extent, where Abel is coming from. It's a wonder he managed to prepare dinner without losing a finger…
"Just think about it," the other says, a mind-reader. Antonio is tired of his wisdom for now… "I know you don't want to hear it," Abel adds, "but we both know what your demons are."
"Nice… Nice choice of words…"
"But you understand what I'm saying. As tough as they seem," Abel goes on, "you don't have to face them alone. João has told you the same. Even Francis has told you the same. So now I am telling you the same. I don't… want to seem pushy, but of everyone I know, you really are your worst own en—"
Abel ceases. The only sound in the kitchen that remains is the gentle sound of the stew which, after a few moments, Abel turns off so that sound, too, eventually fades.
Antonio is asleep again. He's reluctant to disturb him, this time.
He feels bad for having done it in the first place, truth be told, but there's a point to be made. He isn't well. He isn't himself. But Antonio's stubbornness is undying, and Abel knows that although you can lead a horse to water…
…Dinner can wait. It can wait a bit longer. As uncomfortable as it must surely be to sleep whilst sat at a table, the fact that he's sleeping at all is perhaps not a gift to snuff at, now.
Abel doesn't have the heart to wake him twice.
[ wordcount, 977; prompt list here! ficlet collection here! ]
#helia writes#hetalia#hws spain#hws netherlands#nedspa#i mean it's like the subtlest of subtle#but it counts#love making ned a worrywart with a reluctant patient haha
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Has SQQ tried to separate LBH from SY? After all, SQQ is fond of SY and, And how has that been affecting LBH? I mean, Binhe is fond of his Shixiong
(sorry if You don't undertand me, my english is not very good)
(Don’t worry, your english is very good!! I love it when people are messaging me even though english is not their first language (like me). It means that you took the time to write this in a language you might not feel comfortable with. Thank you so much for sending this ask, it means a lot to me <3)
At first, Shen Qingqiu is certainly unhappy to see Luo Binghe sticking to Shen Yuan. He tries to separate them by all kinds of means. He’s also still that good old PIDW Shen Qingqiu so he even tries to beat some sense into Luo Binghe behind his eldest disciple’s back. (Like the AU's part 7.) But, ironically, Shen Yuan always seeks his shidi out if Binghe’s out of his sight for too long and helps him mend the cuts and bruises that Shen Qingqiu gave him. Because of this, the latter is half forced to back off and let that new disciple of his stick to Shen Yuan.
The good thing about Shen Yuan’s presence as a disciple in this AU is that it helps the original (PIDW) hatred between the two to soften up a touch. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t HATE Luo Binghe. He dislikes him, like an annoying bug buzzing too close to your ear. As for Luo Binghe, Shen Yuan’s presence helps him not to receive as much bad treatment from their shizun and fellow disciples. So his “respect” for Shen Qingqiu more or less stays intact until the Endless Abyss part, his growing resentment for his shizun as he grows older never reaching the peak of hatred either.
I’m also taking the opportunity to add this:
Some of you might think that my way of thinking and writing about this AU is too rose coloured. But, as I as discussing this AU with a few people, I realized that Shen Yuan just… neutralizes everything. As if he’s diverting the attention to himself (he doesn’t mean to though). Let me explain:
In PIDW, Shen Qingqiu is described has having a rather low cultivation compared to his martial siblings, probably due to his time with Wu Yanzi (let’s just say that this guy wasn’t a good mentor lol). So he comes to be jealous of Luo Binghe’s potential, shame pilling up on his heart. He then uses every excuse he can find to abuse Luo Binghe, and goes as far as leading his disciples, such as Ming Fan, to bully him too. As for the PIDW’s Luo Binghe, his “blackening” (his hatred reaching a point of no return) only happens when he’s stabbed then thrown into the Endless Abyss. Before this point, he’s just our cute and innocent white lotus baby boy. That’s exactly what Shen Yuan in svsss exploits to change Luo Binghe’s view of Shen Qingqiu.
Ok, so, that being said, hear me out: The Shen Yuan in this AU is also very talented… in a different way than Binghe. Like I said in another post, he’s closer to Shen Qingqiu’s chosen “style”, so he gets along better with his shizun right from the start. (There’s also something else but this is a SECRET ssshhhHHHH) Shen Yuan is also from the modern era and the system didn’t give him any kind of character restriction since he transmigrated as himself, so he acts a little weird in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. In that case, why would Shen Qingqiu’s be jealous of a disciple he thinks to be a little “broken” in the head and hardly better than him at cultivating? He wouldn’t, right? And Shen Yuan is useful and polite, and he’s got a very compatible personality with Shen Qingqiu (in a positive way). So he grows on Shen Qingqiu. Now, after trying to separate his oldest and youngest disciples many times and failing, would he insist on doing so, risking upsetting and disappointing the only disciple he grew to actually like? I personally don’t think so. Not when the original Shen Qingqiu is said to be very loyal under all that attitude. Plus, the Shen Yuan in this AU is very much afraid to end up being killed by his not-yet shidi because of Shen Qingqiu, so he tries really hard to slowly change his shizun’s view of the world (and because the system also gave him a mission about it).
That’s why I think Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have the opportunity to grow to HATE Luo Binghe. First, because Shen Yuan is also talented and it wouldn’t make sense for Shen Qingqiu to hate one but not the other. Second, because Shen Yuan, as his first disciple, had the time to gradually help Shen Qingqiu heal from his shame of being inferior by fortunately being similar to him and supporting him. And third, because Shen Yuan is simply there, being a guy, and getting frustratingly in his shizun’s way when the latter tries to be mean to Luo Binghe. (Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not making Shen Qingqiu’s a saint, he’s very much still an arrogant, agressive, proud and ambitious bastard at first. He just now has other choices than going down the “villain’s path”. He’s more… nuanced? I don’t know.)
Therefore, if we say that Shen Yuan’s presence halves the abuse Luo Binghe would have received otherwise (while also giving him the love and attention his version in svsss gave him), I think it’s fair to think he would not resent Shen Qingqiu as much and instead focus his attention on his shixiong. In svsss, it’s clearly stated that Luo Binghe’s doesn’t even hate Shen Qingqiu for beating him after being taken as his disciple. He does feel SAD about it, but he believes that his shizun and his older martial siblings only want to “toughen him up”. He only starts to truly hate and blame his shizun after being thrown into the Endless Abyss. So would Luo Binghe hate Shen Qingqiu at the beginning of this AU considering all of the above? No, I don’t think he would. (As for later, I’m not saying hahaha)
I hope this answers your question! (And I apologize for the above novel, I felt like it was a good opportunity to clarify my view for this AU. (。・ω・。))
#ask box#sy shixiong au#not art#littlewolf770#I have no idea if all of this makes sense to anyone but me#im so very sorry if yall dont like when i go on and on like this#please tell me if this is annoying lmao#i love writing like this though#it helps me ground my ideas
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Aren't We Just Terrified - Part Three
Part Three of the New Moon reader insert fic that I've been promising for FAR far too long.
Summery- The idea of facing mortal danger just to see a ghost of him almost sounded rational here.
I watched as Bella hugged her chest to keep herself whole. I stood by as she chased adrenaline for the smallest glimpse of Edward.
I didn’t feel perfect- standing there didn’t heal me. I let out a small humorless laugh and shook my head accepting that I couldn’t keep pretending that there was never a wound in the first place.
Word Count- 18,067
Warnings- This is New Moon, so it's a lot darker than the first. IF YOU HAVEN'T READ I'm Always in This Twilight READ THAT FIRST!! Depression, abandonment, misunderstandings, break ups, Age gaps because of vampires, angst! It's very angsty, but it gets better! I promise it has a very happy ending.
Notes from me- My name is Claire and this is my second love child. I have finally finished my version of New Moon and I could not be more excited for you guys to see it.
This is book 2 of probably 5 so stayed tuned for the rest of them.
I DO NOT own The Twilight Saga. All rights go directly to S. Meyer.
Read on AO3 <3
Part one <3 Part Two <3 Masterlist <3
Thank you for being here, I Love you <3
Aren't We Just Terrified - Part Three
There sat Carlisle’s car.
It was his car. I knew it was. I knew that car as well as my own.
He could be in there, waiting for me. I blinked back tears until I saw Dad's headlights. I could be crying when Dad got here, we had just lost a family friend. I got out of the car and turned off Bella’s. He shut the passenger door of the truck as I ran around to hug him fiercely.
“I’m so sorry Dad.” I really needed him right then just as much as he needed me. They were completely different reasons, and he didn’t know mine, but the fact remained.
“It’s hard to believe.” He sighed into my hair but his hug didn’t loosen. I nodded and he turned, one arm still wrapped around me. He pulled me to the door right as Bella ran out. She said the same apologies. She asked about Sue and the kids, though we knew as well as anyone how hard this would be all around.
Dad’s other arm went around Bella and we walked towards the door.
“Uhm, Dad?” She hesitated. My chest tightened. “You’ll never guess who’s here.”
He turned quickly back to the car by the road like it hadn’t hit before that moment it was even there. I desperately looked at Bella, who was looking at the front door. I swiftly diverted my eyes to the ground beneath my feet. I couldn’t, wouldn’t look at whoever was standing there. I didn’t wanna know.
I locked my eyes on a worm that was wiggling in a puddle. I begged it to hold my attention.
“Hi, Charlie, Y/n,” Her voice was soft and subdued. “I’m sorry I came at such a bad time.”
“Alice Cullen?” I laughed, I wanted to roll my eyes, but I didn’t want to risk moving them from the worm. He didn’t sound like he actually believed she was there. “Alice, is that you?”
“It’s me.” She confirmed. “I was in the neighborhood.”
“Is Carlisle…?” His arm tightened around me, though I knew he was mostly asking about Edward. I still said nothing. I named the worm Jerry. I was entirely dependent on Jerry right now.
“No, I’m alone.”
I finally looked at her. She was here alone. Did he even know she was here? I couldn’t ask. I scanned her features hoping to find some kind of truth there. She was still so beautiful. She hadn’t changed at all, but she wouldn’t have I guess. Her eyes were dark, almost black.
I tried to soften as she looked at me. She wasn’t evil.
No, she and her family just left Bella and I to suffer for 6 months. I shivered and tore my eyes away and back to Jerry, who was wiggling his way to the mud. I wished he’d take me with him. Instead we headed inside. I still said nothing.
“There’s dinner for you on the table,” She looked between me and Dad.
“Thanks, Bells.” He shuffled into the kitchen and I followed the girls into the living room. They sat on the couch and I couldn’t bring my feet much further than the doorway. Alice pulled Bella to her and she rested her head on her shoulder.
“You look tired.” Alice whispered.
“Yeah… Near death experiences do that to me…”
“I’m sorry, what?” I raised my eyebrows at her as she turned to glance at me.
“I’m okay! Just went cliff jumping, and with the storm… Turns out I’m not as good a swimmer as I thought. Jake saved me. It’s fine.”
“You could have died, Bella.”
“I know-” she tried.
“And you still have a fresh tattoo, by the way.” I added
It was Alice’s turn to be shocked, her brows furrowed and she shook her head once. “Tattoo?”
“It’s been more than a week. It’s probably fine.” She rolled her eyes but we couldn’t help, but chuckle softly. Bella pulled up her sleeve and showed Alice her tattoo. “Look, I got the day I started at Forks High, and Y/n got flowers from-” I crossed the room quickly and covered her mouth with my hand.
I spoke loudly over her. “So! Alice, what does Carlisle think about you being here?” I almost winced when I noticed this was the first time I’d said his name aloud since he left.
“He doesn't know. He and some of the others were out on a hunting trip. I’m sure I’ll hear from him as soon as he gets back.”
“You won’t tell him though… when he checks in again?” Bella sounded distant somehow.
“No he’d bite my head off.” Alice said grimly
Bella almost laughed; she just pressed closer to Alice instead. Her arms were tight, like she was certain if she let go, Alice would disappear again. She clung to her the way she held her own chest together. It broke my heart to watch.
I saw Bella’s eyes slowly starting to close and said “Get some rest Bells,”
“I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
As soon as Bella was snoring I started, “I should go-”
“I don’t know what Carlisle will do when he finds out I'm here, but I imagine he’ll catch the first plane to seattle.” She spoke softly. I just nodded.
“Thanks for the warning.”
“He hates this, Y/n. He hates that we left, and he hates that he hurt you. He never wanted to leave in the first place.”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and blinked a few times. I felt the tears that fell, despite my efforts. “But he did.” my voice shook, I didn’t give her time to respond.
I went upstairs as fast as my feet would carry me and collapsed into my bed. Yet, I don't think I slept an ounce.
~~
I stayed attached to Dad a lot after the day Harry passed, and Alice returned. I went with him to the Clearwaters everyday. They planned a funeral as I avoided my problems. Though I think Leah enjoyed my company. I think I helped her hide from her problems as well. The obvious one, and the potential werewolf transformation. Though I didn’t know if girls could be werewolves. I didn’t ask.
If Carlisle did come back, I wouldn’t know what to say, so I’d be there. Not that I really thought he would come back. If he came back with his perfect hair and stunning smile and stupid loveable face, I would be here and he wouldn’t be able to find me, not that I thought he would try.
By the morning of the funeral I was no longer surprised to see Alice sitting at the table ‘sharing’ a coffee with my dad. She wasn’t drinking it, but she put on a good show. Dad’s suit fit him well. He looked very nice, despite the gravity of the situation.
I told him I would meet him there. He was going early to set up and I didn’t want, nor need to be there for 6 extra hours.
Bella was cleaning. I think she just wanted to make Dad's life easier. Alice was hanging around, wherever Bella went, so did Alice. They talked about school and old classmates. Alice talked about how Jasper started school, and mentioned how Carlisle is teaching classes at Cornell. I tried to imagine him as a professor, but I felt heat reach my cheeks and changed the subject before she could hear my heart rate spike.
“Do you think he’ll really come back?” I asked.
She nodded. “I know he will. I’m a little surprised I haven’t heard or seen anything yet. I do know he’ll get back from his hunting trip today, but that’s all I’ve been able to see so far.” If he wasn’t back, he didn’t know she was here and couldn’t make the decision to fly out here. She couldn’t see how it would play out until he decided.
If you had asked me 6 months ago, before they left, I think I would have believed he would fly out, but now? I didn’t feel like I knew him at all. “I genuinely have no idea what to say to him, if he does come.” I looked to my feet and crossed my arms. I didn’t like the way not knowing made me feel. Like at any moment a literal vampire was going to leap from the shadows and grab me. Sure I probably should have worried about that with Victoria, but I’d probably be dead before I noticed her, so I didn’t.
She almost looked confused. “Have you… I’ve seen you at the house.” I matched her expression, equally as confused but nodded. “Did you go into his office?”
Oh no , I sighed. “I never got that far. I got to the living room, but left after… that.” I chose to leave out the panic attack. She probably knew all about that anyway.
“I think you should see what's in there. I don’t really know what it is, but I think it might help you heal.”
Then the doorbell rang and Alice looked more confused than I felt. I decided I would try to go after the funeral. If I couldn’t get all the way to his office then I’d just wait for him to be here. I winced, the idea of him here still feeling impossible.
I would have panicked if Alice didn’t respond. “Bella, I have a fairly good guess who that might be, and I think I should step out.
Not Carlisle… Probably Jacob.
“Guess?”
“If this is a repeat of my egregious lapse in foresight yesterday, then it’s most likely Jacob Black, or one of his… friends.”
Bella stared at her, mouth parted just slightly. “You can’t see werewolves?”
She grimaced. “So it would seem.” I could tell just how much this annoyed her. I made no effort to answer the door, even as it rang twice more. I did roll my eyes at him.
“You don’t have to go anywhere, Alice. You were here first.”
“I don’t think that’s a good-” I did not want a supernatural brawl in my living room.
Alice agreed, cutting me off. “Trust me- It wouldn’t be a good idea to have me and Jacob Black in a room together.”
She kissed Bella’s cheek swiftly before she vanished. I wondered if she’d be back before I left for the funeral. Or if she’d hear from Carlisle while she was gone.
Bella did actually go to answer the door the next time it rang. I followed slowly behind her, just in case it wasn’t Jacob. I knew it was, based purely on the incessant doorbell ringing, but I just wanted to be sure. Once I got close enough I could hear how stressed he was and how annoyed Bella was and I decided it was best to stay back.
“She’s not here. Do you need something?”
He hesitated. “You're here alone?”
“Not alone.” I called from behind her and waved once. “Hi Jacob.”
I didn’t miss when Bella rolled her eyes at him. I also noticed that he brought his friends and they were waiting in the car outside. I chuckled, but he kept his eyes on Bella.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course you can, Jacob. Come on in.”
She held the door open for him and I moved to take my leave. “I’ll go… do the dishes… If you need me. Kay?” I laid a comforting hand on her shoulder as I walked by. She bit her lip and nodded, clearly calmer knowing I wouldn’t be far, and they moved to the living room. He said something sarcastic to her and I decided it would be best to stay out of it.
It would only make things worse if I punched him, even if he deserved it. There weren't any dishes to do. I turned the water on and let it run for a moment, just to aid my story. I washed the one coffee mug in the sink and put away the clean dishes that were on the drying rack.
Admitting defeat, I turned the sink back off. I really didn’t want to eavesdrop. I resorted to making coffee. I only had one cup this morning anyway. I hoped the brewing would be loud enough to cover they’re conversation. I leaned against the counter and watched it brew.
I heard Bella marching into the kitchen, her tone thick with annoyance. “Well, run along now. Go tell Sam that the scary monsters aren't coming to get you.”
“Okay,” His voice was calm and collected somehow, despite her teasing. I didn’t add that we didn’t know they weren’t coming back. Or that Carlisle was almost definitely coming back, according to Alice. But when she walked into the kitchen he didn’t follow, though I didn’t hear him leave. She leaned against the counter next to me and rested her head on my shoulder. For a long moment she didn’t move. The room felt so still.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek before I even knew it was there. I didn’t know how to comfort her. Surely, Alice being back didn’t mean Bella and Jake Couldn’t still be friends. Then I felt her tears soak my sweater sleeve, and I knew he had made that ultimatum.
Stupid supernatural drama…
“Bella…?” Jacob asked in a troubled voice. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
“Did what?” Her voice cracked.
“Broke my promise. Sorry”
“S’okay,” she mumbled “I started it this time.”
His face twisted. I’m sure mine did the same. The want to punch him rising again. I hated how easily he could hurt her; I just kissed her forehead and made my way out to the front porch grabbing a pen as I went.
They needed privacy and I needed air. Also time to process the idea that Carlisle might actually come back. I missed him. I missed him so much and there was a healing feeling in letting myself admit that.
I’d spent almost as much time missing him as we had spent together. I had loved him, trusted him, more than anyone before. I still love him, and yet there was this painful hole where he used to exist.
The idea of seeing him now filled me with something akin to excitement or anger or fear, so much so that I was scared to even unpack it all. I had just gotten used to seeing Alice again. I had to get through the funeral. Then maybe I could sit down and evaluate my feelings. Or fall apart, which seemed more likely. I wrote ‘the hours before a funeral’ on the back of my hand.
I could almost hear the phone ring, but it stopped quickly and I figured Bella got it. Then I heard yelling and moved to go back inside and I felt the tell-tale sign of a vampire running past, the door barely even swinging behind Alice as she rushed in.
By the time I could get in there Bella was on the couch. Her eyes were squeezed tight and she was leaning against Jacob for support.
“What did you do to her?” He hardly sounded in control.
Alice didn’t seem to notice him at all. “Bella? Bella, snap out of it. We have to hurry.”
“What?” no one seemed to notice me either.
“Stay back.”
“Calm down Jacob Black,” Alice ordered. “You don’t want to do that so close to her.”
“I don’t think I’ll have any problem keeping my focus.” He gained a small amount of composure, though his threat was made clear.
“Uhm guys… Is anyone going to tell me what’s hap-”
Bella pulled together and finished my question, “What happened?”
“I don’t know!” Alice cried in response “What is he thinking?”
“Who? What is going on?” I looked to Bella who looked at Alice then to Jacob expecting them to have an answer. Jacob said nothing and Alice reached in her bag to pull out a cell phone.
“Rose, I need to talk to Carlisle, Now” She talked fast and hushed. “Great… of course he is. Is there a chance he could still call? No, I’ll be on a plane. Look, have you heard anything from Edward?”
She paused waiting for her to answer, her face got more and more concerned and angry with every word Rosalie spoke. I watched the phone shake in her hand. Something was very very wrong. I held my breath.
“Why?” she gasped. “Why would you do that, Rosalie?” More than anything I wished I had vampire hearing. I wanted to know what she had done to make Alice act this way. “Well you’re wrong on both counts, though, Rosalie, so that would be a problem, don’t you think? Yeah that’s right. She’s absolutely fine- I was wrong… It’s a long story… but you’re wrong about that part too, that’s why I’m calling… Yes, that’s exactly what I saw.”
My head was spinning trying to keep up. I tried to decipher what was going on, but still came up short. Alice looked more angry than I’d ever seen her, it was almost frightening. “It’s a bit late for that, Rose. save your remorse for someone who believes it.” Alice snapped the phone shut with a sharp twist of her fingers.
I rushed to Bella’s side and grabbed her hand. Alice looked like she was in pain, like she didn’t want to say what she had to say next. My own chest tightened.
“Alice,” Bella got her name out before Alice could speak “Alice, Carlisle is back though.”
This time I cut her off, “Back where?”
“From his hunting trip… He called just a minute ago.”
Alice stared blankly at Bella, “How long ago?”
“Half a minute before you showed up.”
Her eyes went wide and she looked more focused. “What did he say?”
“I didn’t talk to him.” Bella’s eyes flicked to Jacob.
“ You answered the phone in my house…” Oooh I really wanted to punch him “It was Carlisle, and you didn’t let me talk to him?” My voice shook.
“He didn’t ask for you,” I was going to punch him. Bella squeezed my hand and pulled me back. “He asked for Charlie, and I told him Charlie wasn’t here.” Jacob muttered resentfully.
“Is that everything?” Alice demanded, I shivered at her tone. I really wanted her to punch him, that would at least do damage.
“Then he hung up on me?” Jacob spat back. He was still shaking. I’m sure I was too. This was a mess.
“You told him Charlie was at the funeral,” Bella reminded him.
Alice jerked her head back to Bella “What were his exact words.”
“He said, ‘He’s not here,’ and When Carlisle asked where Charlie was, Jacob said ‘at the funeral’”
Alice moaned and fell to her knees. I wanted to comfort her, but I didn’t know how. I wanted to throw my arms around Bella and never let go. I was panicking.
“Tell me Alice,” Bella whispered.
“That wasn’t Carlisle on the phone,” she said hopelessly
“Are you calling me a liar?” Jacob demanded, losing a bit of control again. I huffed out a sarcastic laugh.
Alice ignored him and locked her color-drained eyes on Bella.
“It was Edward… He thinks you’re dead.” As she said his name I felt the color drain from my face. My hand covered my mouth as it fell open. Edward thought Bella was dead. I started to cry behind my hand.
But Bella seemed almost relieved? “Rosalie told him I killed myself, didn’t she?”
“Yes,” Alice admitted. Oh my god… how was Bella okay right now? “In her defense, she did believe it. They rely on my sight far too much for something that works so imperfectly. But for her to track him down to tell him this! Didn’t she realize…”
“Or care…” I added, absolutely horror stricken.
“And when Edward called here, he thought Jacob meant my funeral,” She was gripping Jacob’s arm and my hand like they were the only things keeping her alive. He didn’t flinch and I held on just as tight.
Alice and I shared a glance, unsure how to approach this conversation. She clearly wasn’t seeing the big picture. “You’re not upset,” Alice whispered.
“Well, it’s really rotten timing, but it will all get straightened out. The next time he calls, someone will tell him… what… really…” Bella trailed off, like what she was saying was finally dawning on her. I could see the questions flash in her mind.
“Bella,” Alice whispered. “Edward won’t call again. He believed her.”
“I. Don’t. Understand.” She didn’t actually say anything. It was like a whisper of a word that she had to force out.
“He’s going to Italy.”
I felt more tears fall. My heart felt like it was going to cave in. Dumb, over dramatic, teenagers; He was going to get himself killed because he believed she was dead. How stupidly Romeo and Juliette of him.
“NO!” Bella half-shrieked, though I think it was still hard for her to form words. It made us all jump. “No! No, no, no! He can’t! He can’t do that!”
He made up his mind as soon as your friend confirmed that it was too late to save you.” That’s why she came rushing back, she saw him choose death.
“But he… he left! He didn’t want me anymore! What difference does it make now?”
My chest tightened again and I was sure it was going to cave in soon. I had to admit she had a solid point. They didn’t care enough to stay, why would it matter to them that she had died. Maybe he blamed himself, I kind of wanted him to blame him myself.
“I don’t think he ever planned to outlive you by long,” Alice said quietly.
“How dare he!” Bella rose to her feet trying to push a still trembling Jacob out of her way. She dropped my hand. She was desperate and scared and so angry. She begged “What do we do? Can’t we call him? Can Carlisle?”
“Carlisle isn’t back.” I tried to answer for Alice, she shook her head.
“He got back but he’s on a plane.” She left off where he was heading but my chest tightened anyway. “That was the first thing I tried. Edward left his phone in a trash can in Rio- Someone answered it…” she was still so quiet.
“You said before we had to hurry. Hurry how? Let’s do it, whatever it is!”
“Bella…”
“Bella, I-I don’t think I can ask you to…”
“Ask me!” Bella demanded. I really wished she wouldn’t, because whatever it is, I could tell it would be bad; I knew Bella would do it. I felt like I was going to be sick.
Alice placed her hands on Bella’s shoulders, I didn’t know if it was to steady her or to just keep her. “We may already be too late. I saw him going to the Volturi… and asking to die.” We all flinched, except Jacob, who didn’t seem like he minded all that much. “It all depends on what they choose. I can’t see that till they make a decision.
“But if they say no, and they might- Aro is fond of Carlisle, and wouldn’t want to offend him- Edward has a back up plan. They are very protective of their city. If Edward does something to upset the peace, he thinks they’ll act to stop him. He’s right. They will.”
My head was spinning, tears flowing freely at this point. Though Bella still looked terrified, she stood her ground. I knew there would be no chance of her changing her mind. She was going to Italy.
Alice continued, “So if they grant his favor, we’re too late. If they say no, and he comes up with a plan to offend them quickly enough, we’re too late. If he gives in to his more theatrical tendencies… we might have time.”
“Let’s go!”
“Bella, please-” I tried to grab her hand again, but she brushed me off.
“Listen, Bella! Whether we are on time or not, we will be in the heart of the Volturi city. I will be considered his accomplice if he is successful. You will be a human who not only knows too much, but also smells too good. There’s a very good chance that they will eliminate us all- though in your case it won’t be punishment so much as dinnertime.”
I cringed again. She might not come back from this; more so than last time. If she came back at all, she could be a vampire, and wouldn’t be allowed anywhere near people. This could be the last time I ever see my sister as the girl I know her as.
And she was willing to go, right now- with or without Alice.
“Tell me what I need to do!”
“You write a note to Charlie. I’ll call the airlines.”
Bella and I both lost our breaths again. “Charlie,”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to Charlie … Or Y/n.” He was still so angry he was shaking. “Screw the treaty.”
“Y/n, can you tell him?”
“No,” I shook my head. I almost laughed, but my chest hurt too much. “No, I will not tell our father, who is grieving his best friend, that his daughter left for Italy on a suicide mission to save her boyfriend from getting himself killed. Sorry, but I can’t do that to him, not right now.”
Her face softened, “I understand. A note will have to work.” She did sound understanding.
“Hurry, Bella.” They all broke off, leaving me alone on the couch.
I brought my knees to my chest and rested my forehead on them. I didn’t even know where to begin to process. Everything that I’d been feeling since they left bubbling to the surface and threatening to tear me apart.
I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t even cry.
I tried to focus on the sounds around me. Alice and Jacob arguing, Bella running up the stairs. The room was spinning, but I managed to get to my feet. I got next to Alice and she let me lean against her for support. I knew she would have to go as soon as Bella was ready, but I used her cold skin against mine to ground myself.
“Argue when we get back, let’s go!”
Alice kissed my head and pulled back. I could stand on my own two feet again, knowing I didn’t have time to fall apart right now.
I grabbed Bella’s hand. “Bella,”
“I have to-”
“I know, just… Be safe, okay? Come home.” She nodded a few times then picked up her bag. I turned, pointing to Alice, “and You. Bring her home. Whatever it takes.”
She nodded too, “I’ll try very hard.” I could tell she meant it. “Carlisle will be in tonight, but I don’t know when. He hasn’t decided what to do when he gets here.” She threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly, before swinging me to Bella.
“I’ll be at the funeral. I’ll deal with that when I have time.” I hugged Bella with all the strength I had left and whispered. “I love you.”
She hugged me just as hard. “I love you.” when she pulled back our eyes met. I didn’t want to say goodbye and I could tell she didn’t either. I just nodded sharply and kissed her head and let her go.
She stepped back and towards the door, Jacob stepped up to make his plea, but I couldn’t hear them over the ringing in my head. I took a page out of Bella’s book and wrapped my arms around my chest to hold myself together.
The engine to Carlisle’s car revved and Bella took off, still shouting back at Jacob.
“Take care of Charlie!” I think it was meant for Jacob, but he was already running off. I nodded. Then she stepped on the gas, the tires screeching in protest.
And they were gone.
I stared after them, but they were gone faster than I could keep up. Jacob’s discarded shoes hadn’t even hit the ground. He had shifted and ran off in the other direction.
I had to remember how to breathe.
Dad, my poor, sweet Dad had only just lost his best friend and now his daughter was very likely going to her death.
I’d probably have to be the one to tell him, so no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t break down yet. I didn’t even know where I’d begin. I’d let him read the note. I’d wait to hear if she was alive- human or otherwise- and then I’d start from the beginning. If she died, he deserved to know exactly how.
I’d spend every single second, hoping she’d come home, vampire or not.
But first, the funeral.
I had to get ready to meet Dad on the reservation in an hour. The funeral started in two. I couldn’t help but wonder where they’d be by then. I googled flight patterns to Italy. It would be at least 12 hours before they would land in Italy and it was only noon.
I had a very long night ahead of me.
~~
I showered, I got dressed, I attended the funeral of a man who had a hand in raising me, and I pretended to be okay. If I couldn’t do anything else, at least I could hold myself together for Dad. Bella never planned to be here, so luckily he didn’t ask about her. I wanted to tell him, he needed to know, but she left a note, and he didn’t need me unloading the family drama… not right now.
Everyone had already started to head home. Dad and I had stayed later than most, like we had all week. Billy and Sam stayed too, though Jacob left first. If Dad didn’t tell me, I probably wouldn’t have known he was here at all. He came in, paid his respects, then left just as quickly.
I knew the hurt he felt. We may never see Bella again, and there was nothing we could do about it. Except pretend nothing was wrong. It wasn’t easy.
A shiver shot through me. Everything got too loud, the world started spinning. I stepped out to breathe and collect my thoughts. This impending panic attack couldn’t happen here.
I wasn’t outside long before Sam came out too. I was leaning against the wall, my face in my hands.He didn’t say anything for a long moment. I pushed back the tears that were trying to break free before turning to face him. His eyes were soft when they found mine.
“Y/n… I’m-” he started.
“I know. Me too.”
There was another moment of silence before he spoke again. “It’s been a crazy couple of days…”
I couldn’t help but laugh softly, “Just a little.”
“Everytime things calm down, something else goes just so, so wrong.” He was laughing now too. Nothing about any of this was funny, but it was all the energy we had left.
“God it’s so bad.”
He still smiled as he said, “The pack is having a bonfire tonight. For Harry, and the Clearwaters. You could come, if you wanted.”
I shook my head. “I’ll need to be home. Dad doesn’t know Bella’s gone yet. I wouldn’t want to leave him alone tonight.” I winced, the last bit of humor completely faded.
“Do you…” He looked troubled. I could tell he didn’t want to add to my stress, but he asked anyway. “I know Bella said they weren’t, but now, I don’t know. Are they coming back?”
“Carlisle is. I’ll have to talk to him at some point.” I looked at my shoes. “He might not even stay. I don’t think the others will but… but maybe… Hell, I don’t even know that Bella is coming back.” I trembled again, wishing I could give him the answers he wanted. Maybe knowing would make me feel a little less hopeless.
“I’m sorry.” He sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair. “But I hope they don’t”
I almost laughed again. “That’s fair, I guess. I don’t have the energy to stress about it now.” I pressed off of the wall and started to drift back inside. He caught my arm.
“If you need anything. You or Charlie. If anything happens-”
I cut him off again, “I’m sure you’ll hear about it rather quickly.” I mustered some strength to pull my arm back and went inside. I didn’t need nor want any more of this wolf-y bullshit.
I just wanted to go home.
It was eight o’clock and all the adrenaline from this morning was completely gone. I had nothing left. Dad could tell.
“You can go home honey. I’m gonna be here a while still to help clean up.” I just nodded. He kissed the top of my head and I drifted back out.
As soon as I was behind the wheel I knew I wasn’t going straight home. I found the house like it was second nature. I hoped, if he was here, he wouldn’t notice me pull in. I wanted a few more seconds to pull myself together. Outwardly, nothing had changed. For a second I thought maybe my instincts were wrong. Maybe he wasn’t back, but then I noticed the porch light was on.
~~
Carlisle’s Point of View
It didn’t take me long to get home, though it felt like days. I was looking at flights as soon as Rosalie had mentioned her name. I think I would have flown home soon anyway.
I needed to see her.
It was clear that someone had been here. The driveway wasn’t completely reclaimed by nature. All of the lights were off, but the power still flowed and they came on when I tried the switch.
I pulled my car into the garage and shut it behind me. I didn’t know where to begin. I couldn’t just rush to her door, despite how desperately I wanted to.
I’d almost hoped she’d be here when I got here, but I hadn’t heard anything from her at all. She could absolutely hate me.
I couldn’t blame her, if she did.
The front door was unlocked. There was a small chance Alice had left it unlocked, but I doubted Alice would have used the front door and not her room access. Everything in the house was still covered in dust. The sheets hadn’t been moved.
Nothing had changed at all. A sinking feeling washed over me. There weren't recent footprints in the dust on the floor. She hadn’t been here in months. There was only one chair uncovered, but now it too, was dusty. Then the footprints led back outside.
I rushed up to my office. There was no evidence at all that she had even started to move this way, but I had to hope. I had to see for myself that she hadn’t. The door was still shut. My hand hesitated just above the knob. All of my senses were screaming that she wasn’t in there and yet when I yanked the door open I expected to see her.
But the office was exactly like I had left it.
Everything.
The letter, the money, the plane tickets. They all sat in the very same spot I’d put them 6 months ago. Dusty, and in the exact same spot.
She had never been here. She had no idea that I left this for her to find. She had spent this whole time believing that I had just abandoned her. Panic rose in my throat so high I thought I’d choke on it.
Quickly, I checked the clock. It was only a quarter past eight. She’d probably be awake. Probably about to head to work, though she might have taken time off for Harry Clearwaters death. I didn’t have time to think it through. I’d get to town and track her if I had to. I just had to explain everything. I didn’t expect her to forgive me.
I couldn’t even really forgive myself. How could I just trust that she would find this. I should have been more throughout. Edward and Alice’s opinion be damned. I should have just taken her with me.
If it would have saved her months of this pain.
I collected the papers and ran towards the front door. I glanced at the footprints again and felt my chest tighten. She had been here, and she found nothing. I had hurt her again and she’d left.
If nothing else, I had to see her. I had to see that she was okay. I had to give her this closure.
I swung open the front door.
~~
Y/n’s Point of View
I didn't think.
Gravity pulled me toward the front door. I walked as quickly as my feet would carry me. I would have ran, but I knew I would have fallen. I paused on the front porch to take a deep breath.
I didn’t know for sure he was here. I still hoped he wouldn’t notice me. Also it was entirely possible Alice had left the porch light on. Either way, Alice told me to go into his office. I just had to convince myself I could get in the front door.
I think my heart actually stopped when the front door opened.
I hadn’t really planned this far ahead. I didn’t know what to say and I completely froze. There he stood. Beautiful, golden, there- Actually right there.
Over 100 times since he left I pictured what this very moment would look like, but not once did I think of what I would say.
I looked into his golden eyes. They were so bright and liquid, somehow. It would have taken my breath away, if I had been breathing. I just gaped at him. I saw the worry in his features and winced as my name left his lips and I had the strength to look away from his gaze. I silently prayed for Jerry to wiggle his way out of the ground at this exact moment.
“you…” I took a shaky deep breath. “You left.”
“Y/n, I tried…”
“No. You left, Carlisle. I… I was in love with you and you left. I waited for it to be a nightmare. I kept waiting to wake up, but I didn’t because you really left.”
“Please, Y/n. I deserve everything you could say to me and worse. I just want you to know that I never intended to abandon you.”
“But you did.” my voice was broken and I couldn’t pull my eyes back to his face.
“I know…” He sounded so broken. He sighed and took the smallest step forward. I couldn’t even flinch away, not that I really wanted to. “God, Y/n. I’m sorry. I’m so truly sorry. I know that ‘sorry’ isn’t enough. I thought I left enough clues. I wanted you to find me.”
“What?” That made my eyes snap up. “How?”
“I asked you at the restaurant to take care of my plants. I just wanted you to find this…” he held an envelope out to me. I stared at it and shook my head. I couldn’t bring myself to take it. He didn’t move. “There’s a letter explaining everything. The reason why I left the way I did, my plans moving forward. My new phone number, everything you would need to find me is in here.
“I thought if you made the decision to follow, Alice and Edward wouldn’t have the right to stop you. I had no idea you wouldn’t go in.”
“Alice…” I tried. She would have known, right?
“They refused to give me any information on what would happen when we left. They swore it was for the best. It’s not an excuse. I am fully capable of making my own decisions and I honestly believed it would be better for Bella if we left, but I wanted to give you the choice.”
I shook my head again. I didn’t try to stop the tears or wipe them away. “All of this was here? This… this whole time?” He nodded and I winced, more tears falling. “Fuck…”
He almost laughed, he almost took another step closer to me. I looked at his face and I could see the hesitation there. I was thankful for it. Despite how desperately I wanted to fling myself into his arms, I knew I needed time.
I raised my hand and felt the paper as he placed it in my palm. It was really dusty, as if to mock me that it was really here the whole time.
“I… I need time.” I could heal. I was already healing. “I need to read this and I need to hear from Bella.”
“I understand.” His voice was soft.
“Shit… These are your kids, Carlisle. I’m so sorry.”
“She’s your sister. This isn’t easy for either of us. I’ll call you if I hear anything.” I nodded, watching his pained expression soften. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here until you tell me to go.”
I nodded again. Looking at the papers in my hand. I knew I wouldn’t have the strength to leave if I looked at him again, but his eyes never left my face.
I turned on my heels and walked back to my car.
He stayed on the porch as I pulled out of the driveway.
I just went home.
~~
Dad was still up when I got home. I braced myself as I walked in the front door.
As soon as I opened the door, his desperate voice called from the kitchen, “Bella?”
“It’s just me, Dad.” I almost heard him sigh, but the sound was covered by a crack of a beer can opening. I walked into the kitchen, still clutching the envelope from Carlisle.
“What the hell is she thinking?” I leaned against the door frame and let him rant. “She’s just gonna go running back to him? What kind of trouble is he in that would justify this?” He pointed to the note on the table. I tried not to focus on the tear stains on it. “He didn’t come running back when she was half dead.”
“He didn’t know how bad she got.” I tried.
“Bull… whatever. Nothing I can do about it now. She won’t even answer my calls.” he took a long drink from his can. “What’s that?” he nodded towards the paper in my hand.
“A letter from Carlisle-”
He threw his hands up. “Fucking great…” he let out a humorless laugh. “What’s he got to say?”
I almost laughed too, “I uhm… I haven’t read it yet. It’s from before they left, apparently it was at their old house the whole time…” I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or cry, or if I would be able to stop if I started either action. I bit my lip to distract myself.
I think he read my inner monologue “I’m sorry, honey. I know these last few days have been awful for you. You can go read that if you want, or you can take a seat and have a beer if you don’t. It can wait another day, if you need more time.”
“I don’t think I can wait another day.” I smiled softly and walked over to him. I placed a kiss on his cheek and hugged his shoulders. “I’ll let you know if I hear from them. You should get some rest.”
He returned my hug and grabbed my hand as I pulled away. “I’ll try here in a bit… Thank you for being such a good kid.”
I did laugh at that. “Hey! I was kinda rebellious at times!” He just raised his eyebrows at me. “Okay, okay. She’s totally got me beat. She’ll come around.” Hopefully…
“Love ya kid.”
“Love you more.”
I drifted upstairs. Once my door was shut behind me, I looked at the letter again. I had to open it. I had to know what it was. I could tell that it was more than just a letter. It was very heavy and in kind of a large envelope, so unless it was just a very strongly worded letter, there had to be more.
I sat at my desk, setting the papers on the desk in front of me. My legs wouldn’t stop shaking and I could tear my eyes away. I don’t know how long I sat there, but I heard Dad’s bedroom door shut and I felt confident that if I had to fall apart, I could. As long as Dad was asleep, I couldn’t add to his stress.
I slid my thumb under the edge. I laughed softly as I thought What if I got a paper cut right now? I had to take a second to let the giggling subside. Again I couldn’t tell why I was laughing, it wasn’t funny, but the irony was just too much.
Once I finally collected myself I reached into the envelope. I pulled out the first thing my fingers touched. The neatly folded piece of stationary was for sure the letter. Then there were the keys to Alice’s Prius, two open plane tickets to New york. I guess he wanted to give me the choice of a plus one. I guess if I brought Bella, Edward couldn’t be mad at him. Then I pulled out a stack of 100 dollar bills that made my eyes shoot open. I counted it quickly and there were 20, 100 dollar bills. I dropped it back to the desk like it was on fire.
Shock was setting in. He left me two plane tickets, a car, and 2000 dollars… My heart was racing. I knew that the answers to all of my questions were hidden in the letter, and I was out of ways to stall.
~~
Dearest Y/n,
I can’t begin to apologize for leaving you. There is nothing I could say that would make up for the hurt I may have caused. I never wanted to leave in the first place but Alice and Edward swore it was for the best. They promised me you would be alright.
I have to admit, Bella being the constant danger magnet that she is, I have to agree. She would be safer if we weren’t around. Bella, but not you.
I know that you are safe with me. I won’t completely turn a blind eye to the obvious dangers. If you were to become a vampire, those dangers would dissipate further. I am certain that even as an immortal Bella will still find some life threatening dangers.
It all boils down to your choice, Cara. Alice and Edward have decided that they know what is best, but I will never take away your right to choose for yourself.
I’ll hide my thoughts from Edward and think of something else while he’s around and I’ll leave the choice up to you so Alice won’t see the decision. By the time she does, no matter how you choose, it will be too late.
I will respect your choice. I will stay away until you are ready, even if you never are. I will welcome you here with open arms, if you choose to fly out, or I’ll catch the first flight back if you would prefer I come home.
We’ve changed our phone numbers. Mine is (#) if at any point you need anything, please do not hesitate to reach me.
The plane tickets are paid. Bring Bella or your father or anyone you like. Feel free to leave the car at the airport and I will pay for the extended parking, or just have it moved.
Whatever you need is yours, Y/n. I will be waiting every second of every day to see you again.
I am truly so sorry. If I had a say, I would have never left in the first place. I wish I could have just brought you with me, but again the choice is yours to make.
I want you to know how much I love you. I never thought I would find someone like you and I do not know what I’d be without you. I won’t stop missing you until we are together again.
My home, my heart, will stay with you. I love you.
~Carlisle Cullen.
~~
I held a shaky hand to my lips as I scanned the words over and over.
He loved me. He never wanted to leave and I had sat here for 6 months convinced he had abandoned me. He had left everything he could, just to make sure I could make my own choice.
I love him. I loved him before he left and I had missed him more than I was willing to admit. Now that he was back, I wanted nothing more than to forgive and forget and go running to him.
But so much hurt still lingered.
Bella and Alice were running head first into a lion’s den to save Edward from himself.There was no way of knowing when, or if, they would come back. I couldn’t just pretend there wasn’t danger.
Maybe Carlisle didn’t know how bad off we were, but Alice and Edward did. She would have seen what leaving would do to us and they left anyway. I was okay. I was a mess and my heart hadn’t even started to really heal from the worst heartbreak I’d ever experienced, but with time I could have pulled myself together. Even when Bella was ‘better’ she was still basically lifeless and they would have known.
Alice came back because she saw Bella throw herself off a cliff and thought that was completely plausible. Bella was that bad and they knew it. Edward believed it too, and they both chose to abandon her.
My anger wasn’t with Carlisle, though there was some anger with him; He was a fully grown adult, who is capable of making his own choices, and chose to leave. I needed time, I could forgive and move on, but I needed time to do it.
I found my bed, though my legs threaten to give out underneath me. Once I hit the bed I was 100 percent okay with never moving again, but I felt my phone buzz. I blinked away the tears just so I could read the message.
TEXT MESSAGE FROM Unknown number
2:18am: Alice and Bella made it to Italy.
And then another
2:18am: This is Carlisle by the way.
I couldn’t bring myself to say much so I just shot back a quick ‘thanks’
2:19am: Of course. I will keep you up to date when I hear more. Let me know if you need anything at all.
I didn’t respond. I made the executive, adult, decision to just lock my phone screen. I rolled over and let myself fall apart.
I just cried myself to the edge of sleep.
~~
Updates were slow to come.
Well, it felt slow anyway. It was 9am before he heard from them again. He called me to update me that time. I almost didn’t answer; I was too scared.
“Y/n” his voice sounded relieved, like he could sense my hesitation.
“Have you heard from them?” I didn’t mean to be so short. I hadn’t slept at all. After I read his letter I couldn’t stop spiraling, and the knowledge that my sister was running basically to her death kept my mind too busy for any genuine rest to happen.
“Miraculously they are on their way back to the airport.”
“They’re coming home?” I hadn’t dared hope.
“They are. Alice wasn’t able to go into much detail, but they got there in time to stop Edward. They just had to wait for the sun to go down before they could leave to catch a flight.” I could hear the relief in his voice. I wanted to hold him.
“They’re really alive.” I didn’t like how broken I still sounded.
“Yes. Alice said she’d explain exactly what happened once they were home. I’m… I’m going to meet them at the airport. I have to see them.” His resolve was breaking, even over the phone I could feel the hesitation. “I could swing by and pick you up before I go, If you wanted to be there as well.”
Every voice in my head was screaming at me to say yes. I wanted a quiet hour with him. I needed to see Bella to really know she was alive, but still I said “I think I should stay with my Dad. He’s pretty bent out of shape.” I could hear him impatiently flipping through the tv channels trying to find something to distract himself.
“I understand. Family is a powerful thing.” He was quiet for another moment. I wished I knew what he was thinking, or that I could get on the other side of this to be able to comfort him somehow. He started again “Y/n… Is there anything I can do?”
“Oh…” I was sure there were things he could do, I just didn’t know what. I didn’t know how to do any of this. “I read your letter.” The words came out before I could stop them.
“You did?”
“I’m not mad at you… Well, I am but I’m not. God, Carlisle, I don’t know how to do any of this.” I put my free hand to my face and laughed. “I’m sorry…”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I can’t imagine what I put you through. I just wish I knew of a way to make things easier for you.”
“I know. Thank you for trying… Thank you for coming back.” I was crying again.
“Of course.” Then he just let me cry. And I cried for a while .
It was so comforting to know that he just stayed on the phone and let me cry. Slowly I ran out of tears.
“I’m… sorry. That was kinda a lot.” I chuckled.
“You’re perfectly fine.” He was soft and understanding and he chuckled under his breath. “You can take all the time you need.”
I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me. I peaked out my window and saw nothing but trees and rain. I tried to think of what to say, but I still came up short. I could hear Dad pacing downstairs and I didn’t know what to say to him either. I sighed. “I hate this…”
“I know. I wish I could make this right again. I wish I knew how.”
I was silent for another moment. “When Bella is home, and some of the dust settles, I’ll come over and we can work on this… Together.”
“Together.” I knew he was smiling. It made me smile too.
We said our goodbyes. I layed back down on my bed and bit my lip. Sure, I needed to see Bella. I needed to see all of them home, with no intention of leaving again. I needed this to feel real.
We had a lot to work through, but after that, I think I could heal.
There was also a large part of me that didn’t want to wait.
I stalled most of the morning away. I showered, I even tried to write some, but I gave up eventually and drifted downstairs. Dad had his uniform on and he had made himself a very simple breakfast. He was eating like he planned on bolting as soon as he finished.
“Morning, kid.” He said when he noticed me, though it was a little delayed. I blamed it on the constant worry. On the off chance something happened, I hadn’t told him Bella was on her way yet.
“Morning, Dad. I didn’t know you were going back to work today.”
“Yeah, it hasn’t done me any good just sitting here.” I nodded and wrote ‘impatience’ on my arm. I understood what he was feeling; we had been here before. Last time I just didn’t know what danger lingered behind the scenes. His voice interrupted my train of thought. “Should… should I file a missing persons report?”
“No.” I answered too quickly. His head snapped up. “I just mean… She’s 18, and she hasn’t been gone that long. She left a note. I don’t know what anyone would be able to do.” I hoped I hadn’t raised his suspicion too much.
But he nodded and my heart settled a bit. “I know. It's driving me crazy not hearing anything from her at all. And Renee keeps calling for updates I don’t have.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “Maybe she’ll call soon.” I absolutely hated this.
He let out a short humorless laugh, “Maybe.” He kissed my head and moved away from me to put his plate in the sink. Then he headed for the door, “You’ll be okay for dinner and stuff?” I nodded again, though I didn’t think he expected me to say no. He didn’t even look up as he gathered his things. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad…” As soon as I got it out, I heard the door shut behind him and I was alone with my thoughts again.
I went upstairs to look up how long a flight from Italy to Sea-Tac would take.
~~
Dad got home close to 8pm. He didn’t seem like he was up for talking. He grabbed a beer and turned on the game. He was asleep in the recliner before I was even all the way down the stairs.
If I had guessed correctly, the soonest and quickest flight would put them in Seattle by 1am. Of course I had no way of knowing what flight they caught. Just because I heard they were catching a flight around 11am doesn’t mean the flight itself was right then. Due to my own stubbornness, I hadn’t asked Carlisle about it or connecting flights.
I was losing my mind a little bit more each passing hour. I checked my watch 1000 times. I made sure my watch matched the clock in the kitchen, they didn’t. I fixed my watch to match the kitchen, then checked my phone to find both the clock and my watch were wrong now.
I gave up and stormed into the living room, hoping some cheesy sit-com would help pass the time.
When I finally let myself check the time on my phone again, it was almost 10pm. Immediately I panicked and dialed his number. I didn’t think it through, I just listened to it ring.
It only got through half a ring before he answered. “Y/n?” I could tell he was concerned.
Dad was still snoring in the recliner. I whispered, “Have you left yet? For the airport I mean?” I crossed my fingers.
“The others have. I was about to. Are you okay, did something happen?” The others? I didn’t let it trip me up. I’d worry about that later.
I took a deep breath, “No, I’m fine.” I just had to find the courage to ask him. “Could you… Could you still come pick me up?”
“Absolutely, I’ll be there in ten minutes and we’ll go straight to the airport.” he almost sounded excited. I couldn’t help but get excited too.
“Okay. Oh uhm, my dad is asleep in the living room so don’t pull into the driveway. Your headlights might wake him up.”
He chuckled softly at that, “Okay, I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay…” I wanted to say I loved him but I couldn’t bring the words out. “Uhm… bye.”
I heard him laugh again and say goodbye before I hung up the phone. I quickly tiptoed upstairs, put something better than my pj’s on and went back down. I found a receipt on the dinner table and wrote a quick note to Dad, just in case he woke up while I was gone.
Dad,
If you wake up before I’m back, I’m sorry. I went with Carlisle to pick up Bella from the airport in Seattle.
Brightside! Bella’s coming home!
You can be mad at me when I get back for not waking you up.
I’m sorry again. I’ll see you soon
�� ~ Y/n
I grabbed a pair of shoes and left as quickly as I could, locking the door behind me.I sat on the first step and put my shoes on. As soon as they were securely on my feet, I saw his shiny black Mercedes. I watched as he got out and went to open the passenger door for me. I allowed myself to run to him.
Somehow I think I startled him but he still caught me as I threw myself into his arms. I felt his face in the crook of my neck. I felt him breathe me in.
I whispered, “Thank you. For coming home and for always planning to. Thank you for giving me the chance to choose. I still need time. I can’t just move on. But I want to and I love you and-” I was talking too fast, I don’t know if he understood me, but he chuckled against me.
“It’s alright, Cara. I love you. I’ll give you all the time you need and I’ll be right here with you.”
He didn’t push me for more or try to kiss me. He just held me for a long moment. “Okay,” It took a lot of effort to pull away from him. “I hate to ruin the moment, but we have some mello-dramatic teenagers to pick up.”
The sentiment made him really begin to laugh. “That we do.”
I got into the car and he slid in behind the wheel. I took a deep breath as we pulled onto the road and headed for Seattle.
~~
We drove in silence for a long time. The car held plenty of gas and I made sure to use the bathroom before leaving. We wouldn’t need to stop. Which worked in my favor, considering I didn’t think I could let go of his hand even if I had to. I would just worry about that when we got to the airport.
He broke the silence first. “What made you decide to come along?”
“Dad was already asleep, he didn’t seem like he wanted comfort when he was awake anyway… and I didn’t think I could wait until 4am to see Bella.” I debated saying the next part; a small part of me screamed not to. I wanted to be open and honest with him again. I wanted to trust him. “I also find your presence rather comforting. I missed it.”
Something like hope flashed across his features. “I missed you, Cara.” he gave my hand a light squeeze, before he focused back on the road.
I hadn’t missed what he had called me, then or anytime he did. It pulled at certain heart strings that before 3 days ago, I thought were gone completely. He had called me the Italian term of endearment pretty regularly before he’d left. Even now, my heart skipped a beat to hear him say it.
It still felt surreal to be there, in his car, holding his hand. I let the moment surround me; for once embracing the silence. I closed my eyes, listened to the rain hitting the car and just allowed myself to exist with him.
We reached the Sea-Tac airport in record time, not that that was a surprise at all. I avoided looking at the speedometer. Carlisle parked the car in the first spot he could find. He moved to get out of the car, but I pulled his hand.
He looked concerned, “Y/n? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing… I just needed one more second.” I didn’t want to admit that I was scared to let go of his hand or to go in there and see his whole family again. He nodded as my heart pounded in my chest. I took a few steadying breaths and looked at his face.
“Are you ready?” I thought about it, I was ready to see Bella. I didn't know how ready I was for the rest of it, but it had to be okay.
I nodded, despite everything.
He smiled softly at me and said, “Then I’ll be around to get your door.” I let go of his hand only after the promise that he’d be right back. If he saw through me, he didn’t let on. He was gone, but moments later my door opened and his hand found mine again. As we walked I pulled close to him.
It did not look like it had just passed one in the morning. Though it didn’t take us long to find Jasper. I half expected Rosalie and Emmett to be there too, but as if he was the one who could read minds, Jasper said “Rose and Emmett are bringing Edwards car closer. They didn’t want to crowd them.
When I nodded he continued, “Y/n, I want to apologize for my actions last September-”
“Jasper-” I tried but Carlisle squeezed my hand. I let him finish.
“I know, just hear me out. Over the last few days I have prepared for the worst and have missed Alice with every breath. I can only imagine what these last few weeks have been like for you. I’m truly sorry that my lack of control not only put you and your sister in danger, but also caused months of torment.”
I didn’t fault him. I wasn’t mad at him. It never even crossed my mind that I should be, yet I found myself nodding as I thanked him for the apology anyway.
“Have you heard from them yet?” Carlisle asked
Jasper shook his head, “Their plane hasn’t landed yet but should be here within the next ten minutes or so.”
We all fell quiet as we waited. I pulled my hand away from Carlisle’s only to write the words ‘busy airport at 1am’ on my arm. He looked confused, but didn’t ask me, he was probably saving the questions for later. As soon as the pen was capped and back in my pocket, I relocked my fingers with his.
I saw Alice first. The air left my lungs again as she practically skipped straight to Jasper. Both of their hands met and neither of them spoke loud enough for me to hear. I quickly looked away to give them privacy.
And then I saw Bella and I ran to her. I slowed before I reached her, not wanting to tackle her to the ground, but I hugged her the best I could. I started crying immediately.
“Oh Bella, honey. I’m so glad you’re alright.” The sound was muffled by her shoulder. She hugged me back just as fiercely, though Edward was the one supporting most of her weight. Then I moved to hug Edward, while screaming in my head ‘ I’m so glad you’re alive. If you ever pull some shit like this again, I will kick your ass; Vampire or not.’
He grinned, repentant. “Sorry, Y/n”
The tightness in my chest eased slightly. Despite everything, I was still happy to see him. Still very mad about everything, but happy to see him. Carlisle stepped forward and his hand found mine again. I think he needed it as much as I needed his.
“Thank you, Bella,” Carlisle said. “We owe you one.”
“Hardly.” Bella mumbled. It broke my heart to see how tired she was.
“We should head home.” I hoped dad was still asleep. Maybe we could even sneak her in without waking him up and we could handle the situation tomorrow sometime.
We drifted wordlessly back out of the airport and to the cars in the garage. Bella perked up at the sight of Rosalie and Emmett. Edward stiffened.
From beside me, Carlisle whispered, “Don’t. She feels awful.”
“She should,” Edward said, definitely not in a whisper.
“It’s not her fault,” my brow furrowed as I looked at my sister. I was kinda shocked she felt that way, though I didn’t necessarily disagree.
“Let her make amends,” Carlisle pleaded. “Alice and Jasper can ride with us.” I nodded when he looked at me for confirmation. I didn’t point out that someone would have to ride with us, or that I’d prefer it be Edward and Bella. I just let them make the decisions here.
“Please, Edward,” Bella said. She didn’t seem all that excited either, but that could have been the exhaustion talking.
I hugged her again, quickly. “I’ll see you at home.” She nodded and Edward helped her to the car. I didn’t envy that car ride. I also wasn’t excited for ours either. The deja vu wasn’t lost on me. All of the panic, and the drive to the airport felt exactly like it had last time. I still had so many questions I wanted answers to.
Jasper held open the back door for Alice and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips before getting in. I did envy that, however. I couldn’t kiss Carlisle again, at least not yet. None of this felt real enough to allow myself to kiss him. I was still so scared he would disappear. He did open my door for me, but he didn’t expect me to kiss him. He respected and understood my boundaries.
As we pulled out of the parking garage, Carlisle gentilly grabbed my hand again. “Alice,” He started.
“Yes?”
“Could you please explain what happened?” His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.
“Of course.” Her voice still sounded like a song.
“Please start from the very beginning.” I took a deep breath and she began.
~~
The explanation took the entire drive home and though it wasn’t exactly what we wanted to hear, it was nice to understand the situation better. I was grateful for the knowledge.
In essence, the Volturi demanded that Bella became a vampire. Bella was, of course, ready to jump into immortality right away. And, because Aro had read both Alice’s and Edward’s thoughts, they knew about me too. I got the exact same ultimatum. Become a vampire or die. I tried to quell the panic rising in my throat. Alice would see when they decided to follow through with their threat. I still had time.
I would have chosen it before they left anyway.
The car was quiet after Alice told us about the flight home. We were almost to my house. I was still trying not to panic but I managed to force the wor ds out. “So, you guys are back? Like… really back?” I could see my street coming up. “Because I missed you and when you left, it hurt and I can’t do it again. I… I can’t watch Bella hurt like that again. If the Volturi are after her and she dies-”
“ Mon coeur ,” Carlisle’s voice pulled my focus. His hands moved to cup my cheeks. The car was idling on the street in front of my house, the headlights were off. “I’m here.”
“I know but-” I was losing it and he could tell. He just tried to bring my focus to him.
“I won’t go anywhere, unless you want me to go.”
I looked into his eyes and found comfort in the sincerity there. “I-I don’t.”
“Then I won’t.” I wanted to kiss him again. My heartbeat slowed and I found it in me to produce the smallest smile.
“Oh no.” Alice winced and my heart rate shot back up. I saw Edward and Bella pull into the driveway; their headlights were also off. “Charlies awake.”
“Fuck…” That made Carlisle and the others laugh. “You guys have to go. This is going to be hard enough without him shooting at you.” I swung my door open and undid my seat belt but before I got out, I turned back to him.
I had to trust him. I needed to get it out of the way. If I did it now, then I wouldn’t have to worry about it later. Quickly I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. It was a very small kiss, but it gave me more courage than I would have been able to muster on my own.
“I love you.” I saw the porch light turn on and Dad swung the door open. I got out of the car.
“I love you.” I heard Carlisle say through a laugh. He waited until I was close to Edwards car before he turned the headlights back on and drove off.
“Y/F/N SWAN!? Where the hell have you been? Who was that?” He was clearly very angry and didn’t read my note at all, but before I could answer his eye moved from me to the car next to me. “Isabella!?” He almost looked relieved.
But then he just looked absolutely pissed.
“You should go,” I whispered to Edward as he lifted Bella into his arms.
“It will be fine.” I don’t know how he sounded so confident.
“I can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face here.” Dad marched closer to us. I wanted to beg him to calm down, but I knew engaging would make things worse.
Bella didn’t seem to care so much. “Stop it, Dad.” though I doubt that he heard her.
“What’s wrong with her?” I didn’t know if he meant mentally or physically.
“She’s just very tired, Charlie,” Edward assured him under his breath. “Please let her rest.” I winced.
“Don’t tell me what to do!” Dad yelled. “Give her to me. Get your hands off of her.”
“Dad-” I hated how rude he was being, though I could hardly blame him. He was taking this too far. Edward did try to hand Bella off but she wouldn’t let him go.
“Cut it out, Dad.” She said with more volume. She wasn’t going to let Edward out of her sight anytime soon. “Be mad at me. ”
We made it up the front steps. Bella looked at the sky, but it was still dark and the clouds blocked any light that might have been there this early.
“You bet I will be, I’m pissed at both of you.” His glare came to me, I tried to smile sheepishly, but it didn’t land. “Get inside.”
“Kay. Let me down.” Bella sighed.
Once he had set her down, she lost her balance and nearly toppled over. Edward caught her before it was too late.
“Just let me get her upstairs, then I’ll leave.”
“No,” Bella cried. I could tell she was panicking, but I knew he’d just sneak back in the second Dad was out of earshot. I grabbed his arm as they drifted upstairs. He was only gone a second before Edward came back downstairs. Dad didn’t look up from where I had placed hand on his arm.
I could tell how mad he was. I could feel him shaking. I felt guilty somehow.
Edward paused, like he was going to say something. Dad didn’t let him try. “Get out.”
“Dad-”
“Sir-”
“No, this is my house. I make the rules. You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend nothing happened. In fact I won’t let you. If you step in a single foot through that door again-”
“Dad! Seriously? I’m sure he gets it.” Dad scoffed, “Edward, go.”
He left without another word.
“So, you’re on their side?” It was my turn to scoff.
“There aren't any sides, Dad… I don’t want to do this tonight. I just drove to Seattle and back. Can you hate me tomorrow?” I dropped my hand back to my side. I didn’t even have it in me to cry at that point. I started up the stairs.
“I don’t hate you, Y/n. I just don’t understand-”
“Great, and we can figure that out in the morning.” I didn’t look at him again. I just kept moving towards my room. “Love you, Dad.”
I barely heard him mumble he loved me too before I shut the door behind me.
~~
Bella slept the whole day away, I spent my time locked in my room, and Dad grumbled his way around the house until he went to work. When he got home, he grumbled some more and then also shut himself in his room.
I tried not to let it bother me.
I decided to give him some time to calm down before I went to Carlisle’s house. My house? Now that they were back, was it still mine? Not that I ever really wanted it in the first place. I wasn’t sure how I’d even address that situation.
I shook my head and tried to focus. If I left now, Dad would follow. Probably armed…
Everything was proving much more difficult than I had ever wanted it to be. Even almost a full day later, I still could hardly process it. I couldn’t even get my brain to turn off long enough for me to sleep.
I kept turning over and staring at the ceiling. I’d gotten up and stared out the window, tried counting sheep and making up stories in my head to try to distract myself. Not a single thing helped at all. So I gave up and sat on the floor by the window and listened to the rain for a while until I heard a soft knock on my door.
“Y/n?” Bella poked her head in, clearly checking to see if I was awake. “I’m going over to the Cullens’ house, could you come with me?”
“Right now?” It was well past midnight; closer to sunrise than sunset. She nodded. “Do you need a ride?”
“No, Edward will take me. I just need your input on something.”
“Oh… Uh, sure.” I tried to act like this wasn’t completely bizarre.
She smiled widely, “Good! No time to waste.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me up from the floor. “Let’s go! Chop, chop.”
She only gave me a few minutes to change before she hurried me out the front door. I’m sure she only waited a second before Edward was back to run her to his house. Physically run, because we didn’t want him to bring his car to the street. Dad had eyes everywhere. They were smart enough to know at least that.
It didn’t matter that I drove a bit over the speed limit. They still made it there before me, and were full on making out when I got there. I never thought Bella would need to move on. She didn’t see things the way I did. She was never really mad at them. The whole time, she would have done anything to bring them back. I wasn’t even a little surprised that she could be so okay now.
I don’t think they noticed I had pulled in. They talked amongst themselves for a few more moments before Edward pulled her through the door. I hesitated, getting out of the car slowly and moving toward them. I saw Bella turn and wave me in. I took a deep breath and followed.
I heard Carlisle before I saw him and my heart fluttered in my chest. “-this is not a purely a social visit?”
Bella nodded. “I’d like to talk to everyone at once, if that's okay. About something important.”
Carlisle and Edward shared a look. I wondered what he was thinking. Edward just looked a bit critical.
“Of course. Why don’t we talk in the other room?” Carlisle suggested. I didn’t make a sound. I hadn’t made a sound the whole time and I don’t think they noticed I had come in because when Bella turned to tell me to follow, both men sharply looked in my direction.
“Y/n…” Carlisle basically breathed my name and his face softly slightly. I practically skipped to grab his hand. His fingers interlocked with mine as he led us into the very unused dining room. “I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of seeing you this soon.” He whispered.
I knew the other could hear us, but it still felt intimate somehow. Like it was just the two of us. Feeling his cool breath on my ear made it hard to not blush.
“Bella… Can be stubborn.” I laughed. “I don’t have any idea what this is about.” His hand tightened on mine, but he still seemed calm.
I noticed as we walked how clean the house was. Nothing was dusty. The sheets were gone. It was like they never left. It bothered me more than I thought it would. I knew they’d be back, but I just didn’t want to pretend nothing had happened.
The others filtered in the room. They all picked spots at the table like this was a perfectly normal thing to do. Everyone was smiling, even Rose. Which was new and so odd. Carlisle pulled the chair next to him out for me and Bella sat on my other side. Edward sat on the other side of her.
Carlisle nodded toward Bella, “The floor is yours.”
“Well,” She bit her lip before continuing. “I’m hoping Alice told you everything that happened in Volterra?”
“Everything,” Alice assured.
Bella looked grateful, quickly glancing at me. I nodded. “And on the way?”
“That too,” she nodded.
“Good, so we’re all on the same page.”
That’s what this was about. I felt silly for not guessing before. They’d talked about turning Bella and now she was trying to cash in. She had made up her mind and she wasn’t going to wait. Despite the fact that she had a thousand reasons to wait.
We both did.
“So, I have a problem,” she began. “Alice promised the Volturi that Y/n and I would be like you. I know they are going to send someone to check on us, and I’m sure that would be very bad- something we’d want to stop.
“And so, now, this involves you all. I’m sorry about that.” She looked around the table. I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze. My eyes dropped to where Carlisle’s hand held mine. “But, if you don’t want me, or us… then I’m not going to force myself on you, whether Alice is willing or not.”
Someone must have tried to add something, but Bella cut them off. “Please, let me finish. You all know what I want. And I'm sure you know what Edward thinks, too. I think the only fair way to decide is for everyone to have a vote. If you decide you don’t want me, then… I guess I’ll go back to Italy alone. I can’t have them coming here.”
I forced myself to make eye contact with her. Her face looked riddled with grief. She met my gaze and I shook my head once. A single tear rolled down her cheek when she caught on to the words I wouldn’t say.
‘Not alone.’
I think Edward growled. We just ignored him.
“Taking into account, then, that we won’t put any of you in danger either way, I want you to vote yes or no on the issue of me becoming a vampire. Just me. Y/n can decide whenever she’s ready.”
“Thanks…” I barely mumbled. I was not ready to decide anything. I wanted to at least talk to Carlisle about everything first.
Bella gestured to Carlisle for him to begin, but Edward caught on too quickly. “Just a minute. I have something to add, before we vote.” I had to laugh. I wanted to hit my face on the table. “About the danger Bella’s referring to. I don’t think we need to be overly anxious,” He nearly grinned, like he had been waiting to throw this into the gauntlet. “You see, there was more than one reason why I didn’t want to shake Aro’s hand there at the end. There’s something they didn’t think of, and I didn’t want to clue them in.”
“Which was?” Alice prodded.
“The Volturi are overconfident, and with good reason. When they decide to find someone, it’s not really a problem. Do you remember Demetri?”
Bella shuddered, clearly she did. I had to try to remember which one he was. I got stuck between the tracker one and the twin to Jane.
“He finds people- that’s his talent,” He answered for me. “That's why they keep him.
“Now, the whole time we were with any of them, I was picking their brains for anything that might save us, getting as much information as possible. So I saw how Demetri’s talent works. He’s a tracker- a tracker a thousand times more gifted than James was. His ability is loosely related to what I do, or what Aro does. He catches the… flavor?”
“Eww?” I’m sure the disgust was painted on my face. Carlisle chuckled.
“I don’t know how to describe it… the tenor… of someone’s mind, and then he follows that. It works over immense distances.
But after Aro’s little experiments, well…” Edward shrugged.
“You think he won’t be able to find me,” Bella said flatly.
I could tell how smug he was. “I’m sure of it. I don’t think he’d even be able to track Y/n. He hasn’t met her, and we could easily keep it that way. He relies totally on that other sense. When it doesn’t work on either of you, they’ll all be blind.”
“That doesn’t mean he couldn’t track me, I’m not like Bella.” I tried.
Surprisingly, Emmett added “Not exactly, but there’s something similar. We’ve all noticed it. I know you have too. You can walk into a room of vampires and not a single one of us will notice you. There has to be something to that.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Carlisle mumbled, his grip tightening ever so softly
“Exactly! So How does that solve anything?” Bella asked.
“Quite obviously, Alice will be able to tell when they’re planning a visit, and we’ll hide you. They’ll be helpless. It will be like looking for a piece of straw in a haystack!”
He and Emmett exchanged a glance and a smirk.
“But they can find you,” Bella reminded him.
“And I can take care of myself.”
“Oh my god…” I placed my forehead on the table. Why was Edward being so dense? I was nearly shaking and the only thing keeping me grounded was Carlisle hand on mine. Clearly I wasn’t the only one with a problem because just about everyone else was very against Edwards plan. Except Emmett and Jasper, who continued to encourage him.
Bella wasn’t letting up. “All right, then. Edward has offered an alternative for you to consider. Let’s vote.” Her voice was still so calm and collected, I wanted to vomit. She looked to Edward. “Do you want me to join your family?”
His eyes were jet black. I wondered how long they had been that way. “Not that way. You’re staying human.” I almost laughed.
Bella nodded once and moved on. “Alice?”
“Yes.” She said it like it was easy.
“Jasper?”
“Yes.” I winced and just kept my eyes closed. I used my free hand to hold my head up; bracing my palm on my forehead and my elbow on the table.
Bella pressed on, “Rosalie?”
“No,” Thank god… “Let me explain. I don’t mean that I have any aversion to you as a sister, it's just that… this isn’t a life I would have chosen for myself. I wish there had been someone there to vote no for me.”
It was my turn to squeeze Carlisle’s hand. Though, I knew it wouldn’t do much to ease the overwhelming guilt he felt. I just wanted to remind him I was there.
But, somehow Bella accepted her reasoning. “Emmett?”
“Hell, yes!” he grinned. “We can find some other way to pick a fight with this Demetri.” I had to bite my finger to keep from screaming.
I felt Bella’s eyes on me, Then Carlisle’s. I huffed out a humorless laugh and shook my head. “Oh, I get a vote?”
“Of course, Y/n. This is about you too.” Bella’s voice was soft. I could already tell she regretted saying that.
I was going to make that regret so much worse. I laughed. “I think you’re clueless. I think every one of you who voted yes, is clueless.
“Lets not forget, Bella, that a week ago, none of them were here.” I watched several of them wince. “These same people decided six months ago that we would be better off without them. And now you’re just so ready to strap into a literal forever with them. It’s insane, actually.” I let out a shaky breath.
“I know that I am grossly outnumbered and I’m not saying never,” Edward growled, I rolled my eyes. “You’re gonna have to live with it Eddy boy, it’s been decided and you know it. But can we give it some fucking time? Maybe circle back in a couple months, a year?”
Bella’s sharp eyes never left mine, “No. We’re deciding now. Final opinion?”
“For right this very second? No. I don’t think you should be a vampire.”
“Great. Thanks. Carlisle?”
His eyes were on Edward. I watched Bella start to panic. I knew better, I knew where his vote lay; I dropped his hand. He had the deciding vote, there were three yes’s and three no’s.
“Edward,” he said.
“No.”
“It’s the only way that makes sense.” Carlisle insisted. “You’ve chosen not to live without her, and that doesn’t leave me much of a choice” Edward stalked out of the room. “I guess you know my vote.” he sighed.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at any of them, though I could feel his eyes on me. I was still shaking. There was an ear splitting crash from the other room that made me jump and definitely didn’t help my nerves.
Bella spoke quietly, “That’s all I needed. Thank you. For wanting to keep me. I feel exactly the same way about all of you.”
A hush washed over the room, Alice moved to hug Bella. I closed my eyes and waited for a good point to leave.
“Well, Alice. Where do you want to do this?” I didn’t even have time to react.
“No! No! NO!” Edward roared charging back into the room. “Are you insane?”
“Clearly…” I mumbled under my breath.
“Have you utterly lost your mind?”
“Uhm, Bella. I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’ll need to prepare…” I rolled my eyes.
“You promised,” Bella added, sounding like a whiny child.
I tried to tune them out. I focused on the sound my nail made when I tapped it on the table while they debated which one of them got to bite my sister tonight. The more Bella spoke the more muffled she got, like Edward was doing everything to get her to stop talking.
Bella wasn’t going to give up. I couldn’t take it. I pressed my palms against the wood of the table and left. I didn’t say a word. I felt Carlisle’s soft golden eyes follow me out of the room, but he made no effort to stop me. Not that he could if he tried.
I practically sobbed as I sat down on the front porch, the door slamming behind me. I didn’t make a sound- couldn’t. I sat there and let the cold air wrap itself around me and cried. I didn’t know how or when I would be able to go back inside.
I listened to the crickets. I saw the sun peaking over the tree, just barely shining through the thick clouds. I didn’t cry for very long, I didn’t really have it in me. I just needed to leave the room and allow myself time to pull myself together.
When the front door opened again, I never expected Alice to step out, but then she was sitting next to me.
“They went home… She agreed to wait at least until graduation. But the decision of when exactly hasn’t been made yet.”
I laughed, “Sure seems like it has.”
“Edward won’t do it so soon. He also won’t let anyone else do it.” She rolled her eyes, but was still so delicate with me. “There’s no set time line. She will be one of us, but it doesn’t have to be right now. Even when we were gone the vision of Bella never changed. We’ve just been delaying the inevitable.
“My visions have been wrong before. The future changes constantly. Edward and I agreed that if we left she would eventually move on, and be so much safer. But it never changed and I saw her jump off the cliff and…” Her voice trailed off. I think if she could cry she would have been. “Oh, Y/n… I’m so sorry. I wish I could change the way I handled things. I wish I could save you from all of this hurt.”
I let her hug me. I even pressed into her.
I didn’t want to be mad anymore. More than anything, I wanted things to be normal. Or at least as close to normal as the Cullens could manage.
I looked to find Carlisle leaning against the porch railing. I didn’t know when he had come out, but I was thankful for his presence. Alice pulled away from me as I locked eyes with him. I tried to convince myself he was really there.
From the doorway behind me, Jasper spoke. “We’ll give you guys some privacy,” He said it kind of loud. Much louder than he needed to for just me to hear. I wondered how much privacy we were being given.
My eyes never left Carlisle’s. Alice and Jasper disappeared into the house and I stood up. He moved towards me.
“I understand if you're mad at me…”
I kept my eyes on his face but said nothing.
“I won’t lose my son.”
“I know… I didn’t expect you to vote no. It’s okay.” I wasn’t going to blame him for Bella’s impulsive and reckless decisions. He just wanted to protect his family.
“There’s still time, Cara.” His cool hand pressed against my cheek, whipping away any remaining tears. Somehow it was more comforting coming from him.
I nodded. “I can’t make the same choice she has…”
“I would never ask you to.”
“At least not- not right now.” I leaned into his touch. “I always planned on being like you at some point.” His brow furrowed. I took a deep breath.
“Before you left, I knew that this was the life I wanted. I was always going to choose you and your family. I accepted that that meant I had to be like you, at some point.” I chuckled softly at the confusion on his face and continued. “I had a plan and everything. All I wanted was five human years. To love you, to see more of the world with you. Once the kids had settled and everything didn’t feel like it was out to get us, I would have asked you to turn me on some romantic getaway in Barcelona or Paris. Honestly, anywhere as long as it was miles and miles away from the people I love. I don’t want to be a danger to them...” A delicate smile started to form on his lips. He wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer to him.
“We could still have that, if you still want it. The Volturi won’t think to check in on us for a while. It could be more than 30 years before we hear from them again, and Alice will see when they decide. You could be well into your fifties-”
I faked a gag. “Let’s not go that far.” I smiled up at him, “I just want more time with you.”
“That can be arranged.” I raised an eyebrow. “Stay with me tonight.”
“My Dad might actually kill us.”
“Then tell him where you are and he won’t feel the need to come looking. You’re an adult. He can’t ground you.” He held my chin between his finger and his thumb. “Stay with me.”
I nodded and he kissed me.
For the first time, all of this felt real again. Yes, he did leave, but he never really wanted to. He had spent months wanting to hear from me just as much as I wanted to hear from him. And he came back. He was here now.
Because he came back. Because he never wanted to leave.
I melted into his kiss. His hand pushed my hair off of my face. Before long, I was dizzy and probably would have fallen over if he wasn’t supporting me.
He pulled away first and my forehead fell against his chest. It felt so easy to laugh again.
“If I don’t text him now I’m going to forget and he really will show up this time. I think he’s just looking for a reason anyway.” Carlisle chuckled and handed me my phone, though I didn’t know when he got it. I typed up a very short message and hit send before I could think better of it. I turned the volume off and slid the phone into my back pocket. I looked back at his face.
“I love you.” My voice already sounded significantly less hollow.
“I love you.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “We’ll take this one day at a time.” I nodded and he smiled again. He swept me off my feet and into his arms. Then we were in his office and I was on my feet again.
Thankfully his arms never left my waist. The room spun, but it was exactly like I remembered it. “I’m going to have to get used to that again…” He laughed and let me pull him in the direction of the bed.
The second I was close enough I collapsed into it. Carlisle laid down next to me. I curled myself around him. “I really missed this.” I said, but it was pretty muffled by his chest.
“The bed was here the whole time.”
I leaned up to kiss him quickly and he met me halfway. “But you weren’t” Another quick kiss. “So it doesn’t count.”
I cuddled close to him and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. I felt how heavy my eyelids were, but I didn’t want to sleep. I didn’t want to miss anymore of him.
“Rest, Mon Coeur.”
I shook my head and he looked up to meet my gaze. I knew he’d still be here when I woke up. He’d be here and we’d take it day by day. But I wasn’t giving in just yet. I kissed him again and we kissed until I could no longer keep my head up.
I laid my head on his chest. He brushed my hair with his fingers.
And for the first time since Bella’s birthday, I really slept.
I slept in much later than I usually could, and he was still there when I woke up. I soaked up some of the sunshine pouring in from the windows. I didn’t want to move and disturb the peace. I was laying on my side facing him, and he held my hand in the middle of the bed.
It felt like the best kind of deja vu.
“Good morning, Beautiful.”
“G’morning, love” I reached up and touched his face. “I’m really glad you’re real.”
He laughed softly. “This is very real.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead but then he winced. Which is never a good thing. “Sadly, so are the messages from your Father.”
I sighed heavily and buried my face into the pillows. I still opened my hand and he gave me my phone. I only had 3 messages and 2 missed calls. Which was better than last time. The messages were angry but not threatening. He wasn’t coming after me.
As an adult, I made the choice to lock my phone without answering him. He’d get over it. I looked back at Carlisle, who had his eyebrows raised in suspicion.
I shrugged, “He’s being a baby. He’ll be fine.” His expression didn’t change but he started to laugh. “He’s not going to come here. It’s fine.” I swore.
“Okay, okay.” He put up hand and let his face soften. “I trust your judgment.”
“You should.” I laughed and he pressed his lips to mine briefly.
He pulled back and grinned, “I made coffee.”
I gasped “Really?!” He sat up and I followed him. He grabbed the mug from the bedside table. “All is forgiven.”
He threw his head back as he laughed. “If I’d known it was that easy-”
“Okay! Maybe not everything. But it’s definitely a step in the right direction.” I took a drink of the coffee and it was perfect, just the way I liked it. My heart skipped a beat.
He smiled at me and took my free hand. “I have to ask…” His free hand traced the fading words on my arm. “What are these?”
I felt how red my face got. “Well, I found it really hard to write while you were gone. And I started writing poetry, because my dad called me out on not writing. And I went to a poetry workshop because he said I don’t get out enough. Which was fair. I left the house like ten whole times for the first few months.” He winched. “That’s not the point. Anyway, I didn’t learn anything and all I picked up was writing little things you see on your arm so you can then turn it into poetry…” I rambled but I think he understood the gist of it.
“When do I get to read this poetry of yours?” He smirked.
“Never. When I’m dead? It’s bad, like really bad. And sad. And existential because you were gone… I don’t want it to hurt you.” I tried.
His smile softened and he touched my face. “I still want to read it at some point, but we’ll take it day by day.”
I nodded, “It’s not really up for debate, but maybe I could be convinced….”
“You’ll find, I can be very persuasive.” He winked at me and I melted.
I barely had enough time to set the cup back on the table before I crashed my lips into his.
~~
I cringed when I got home and Dad was still there. I had tried to wait long enough for him to have left for work. When I walked into the house I could hear him angrily doing the dishes. He didn’t even turn when I walked in.
At least he was wearing his uniform. He had to leave soon.
“Bella’s in the shower.” He pulled the plug from the sink and let the water drain; Somehow even that seemed angry. “I just got done talking to her for the first time in days. Or I guess I should say, I tried to talk to her but she just lectured me. ”
“Well-” I tried
“You know, like I wasn’t here every damn day while she suffered. And I’m now supposed to accept that they’re back and that everything is okay.”
“It’s not-”
“Even you are just welcoming them back. After they hurt Bella like that. I just don’t understand how you can pretend nothing happened. It’s like no one cares how Bella-”
That did it. “Oh It’s very clear how much you care about how Bella feels, Dad.” I couldn’t fight back the tears, but the anger in my voice made him finally look at me. “I got hurt too… You’ve spent this whole time worried about Bella and you’ve hardly asked about me at all.”
“Y/n-”
“No,” I cut him off. I really was crying at that point. “Of course I worry about Bella. I hated how much she hurt-”
“They did that to her!” He almost shouted.
I stood my ground. “Carlisle got a job!” It was easy to lie for them now that they were back. “That happens. And he took his kids because what other choice did he have, Dad? They- fuck… They did what they thought was right and they came back when they realized it wasn’t.
“Did they go about it the wrong way? Absolutely. Did it tear Bella and me apart for literal months? Yup, sure did. But they aren’t criminals. They couldn’t have known how hard Bella took it.” My voice started to shake. I wanted to curl up and sleep. “How could they have known how dramatic Bella would be?”
“They should have tried to call or something, instead of just abandoning her.” I let out a humorless laugh and he added, “and you, Y/n. I know this is about you too. I saw how bad you were hurting too. Which is honestly why I’m so surprised you’re just pretending nothing happened.”
“Oh my god! No one is doing that. Carlisle is very aware of how I feel about the situation. Edward is riddled with guilt over all of it.” I sighed really trying to not be mad; He was making it very hard.
“Well I’m not going to sit by and let them hurt you again.”
I wanted to scream but I held back and mumbled, “It’s like I’m talking to a brick wall… Look, Dad, you can be angry and treat us like children if it helps you, but I see through it.”
I’d never spoken to him like this before, but he needed to hear it. I took a deep breath, let my voice soften, and looked him in the eyes. “I know you’ve been in our shoes before and I saw how hard it was on you. I can’t imagine what it’s like to experience that and then have to watch both of your daughters go through the same thing.
“But I know that the anger and the yelling is just you projecting. Bella and I are not pretending nothing happened. Carlisle and Edward are not pretending nothing happened.” His face softened, I thought I’d gotten through to him; at least a little. “Dad-”
“No you’re right. You’re an adult. Bella is… 18.” He put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t want to watch them hurt you again, but I’m the one in the wrong…”
I think he expected me to disagree, but I just sighed and looked at my feet. “They aren’t going to hurt us again.”
“Sure, Sure”
“You can be mad if you want…”
“Oh, I’m gonna be.”
I laughed. “Okay, Dad.” I tried to smile at him. I nudged his foot with mine and he almost cracked a smile. “You trust me, right?”
“Of course I trust you , it’s them I dont trust.”
“Psht!” I waved a dismissive hand “Who cares about trusting them.” He actually did smile a tiny bit. “Just trust me.”
“I do.”
“Great!” I threw my arms around him and whispered, “I can protect Bella too.”
He sighed and hugged me back. After all the yelling, this hug lifted a weight off my shoulders. “I know.” He leaned back to look at my face while holding my shoulders. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“I know.” I repeated his words back to him. “Neither do you. Or Bella. We have each other. Even if everyone else leaves…”
“We’ll always have each other.” He hugged me tighter this time resting his chin on my head. “When did you get so mature?”
“I’ve always taken after you.”
He laughed and pulled away. “I’ve got to work. Try to not let Bella jump on a plane to Texas while I’m gone.”
“Oh Texas? No promises. I’ve heard Texas is great this time of year.”
He tried to look annoyed with my sarcasm, but he loved it.
We said our goodbyes and he went to leave. He opened the door and turned and for a split second he looked like he was going to say something more, apologize maybe, but he shook his head softly and left for work.
He wouldn’t let this go anytime soon.
I decided I wouldn’t let it bother me.
Epilogue <3
Taglist
@jakanddexter67 @a-not-so-poetic-poet @bridge597@cestlavie03 @gaymazinglula
#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#twilight#twilight renessaince#twilight fanfiction#twilight x reader#im always in this twilight#new moon#arent we just terrified
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Bothered
- A blurb in which somebody flirts with Y/n for the first time, and Harry lets jealousy get the best of him
This is a little Drive Me Wild extra for all your valentine’s day needs!!! I hope you enjoy :)
Masterlist
-
“Tequila, please. The best one you’ve got!”
Open bars at work parties are an absolute lifesaver.
Harry and Y/n have been nonstop on their feet since three, wearing their sunday best, talking to all the higher ups and other officials at the firm with as much professionalism as possible. And though it was certainly a nice break from the work setting, it was still a lot for the both of them to keep up with.
It’s nearly eleven now, the party near its end and the exhaustion finally settling in. But Y/n wouldn’t ever dream of passing up unlimited free drinks whenever offered (neither would Harry, but getting her home safe is his biggest priority). Besides, she needed to take the edge off, somehow.
The bartender smiles at her, his eyes looking at her up and down very briefly before making her drink.
She’s humming softly to herself, her fingers tapping against the bar, the palm of her other hand resting on the back of her neck and she looks around the venue, admiring the architecture and the chandeliers that hang from above her.
“How long have you been working for them?” The bartender asks as he slides the shotglass to her, to which Y/n smiles.
“Almost three years! It’s been really good to me so far. I must say, though, it gets a bit stressful and there are a handful of times we end up having to take our work home. But I’ve met some of the best people through the company, so I can’t complain much! Especially when this is the only job I’ve ever considered staying at for so long.”
When the bartender doesn’t answer, yet rather just stares at her with amusement and endearment in his eye, Y/n starts to get nervous.
She considers diverting her attention back to Harry and moving on with her night as if she hadn’t spoken a word at all, but she’s never been the kind of person to walk away from an uncomfortable silence. And most certainly, she has never found it in her will to escape somebody’s pressing and persistent stares.
All of it just makes her so anxious.
So, as an attempt to calm her nerves, Y/n throws her head back as she takes her shot of tequila, her nose scrunching and eyes squinting as it burns down her throat and settles in her chest.
“What about you? How long have you been working as a bartender? I’ve heard it’s a lot of work, remembering all the recipes and stuff. Whenever I went to university, I would go to bars and get drunk by myself and watch how fast all the bartenders made drinks. I found it mesmerising, really. Like an art, almost. A sport, too, I suppose, given how much you all have to think and act quickly yet unmistakably.”
Harry smiles softly to himself, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest as he listens to her get caught up in her rambles.
She doesn’t do that much with him anymore, not in the way she used to. And it isn’t because she’s lost any trust in him, or because she loves him any less — rather, it’s because she trusts and loves him so much more that she doesn’t feel the need to fill any gaps or spaces between them anymore.
He doesn’t make her nervous.
She doesn’t need reassurance with him because she already knows how madly in love they are with one another and how they are undeniably bound to spend the rest of their lives together. The silences they share are comfortable for her, his simple presence enough to make her feel at ease and loved and respected without him having to constantly remind her.
And surely, Y/n still chews his ear off here and there, but he only ever wants more of her.
It’s a disease, his greed and longing for her. She is so enough yet so not enough at the same time, it kills him to think about it, but only in the best way possible.
But the smile and the admiration die down nearly instantly when Harry’s eyes catch the way the bartender looks at Y/n, and the way he straightens himself before her, and the way his bottom lip tucks between his teeth ever so slightly.
Harry crosses his arms at this, watching the way another man is drooling and fonding over his Y/n and not at all trying to hide it. And the sad part is that he can’t even blame him for it — how could he? He had done the very same thing for nearly two years straight.
So he suffers with it in silence.
“My goodness, I do love me a woman who can carry a conversation.”
Harry’s eyes squint over at him, his arms still crossed over his chest, his fingers twisting as he watches him blink flirtatiously at Y/n and the upward twitch of his lip whenever she flips her hair over her shoulder.
She only ever does that when she’s sweating, he knows this because she’s his girlfriend and he knows her more than he’s ever known himself. He also knows that Y/n thinks too lowly of herself to ever consider one’s kindness as flirting.
And though Harry wouldn’t dare to dream of changing anything about her, he does wish, just this once, that she’d see it.
Y/n blushes at his comment, but only because she doesn’t know what to say.
“Can I have another shot, please?” She asks as a form of distraction, but in such a sweet manner the bartender barely seems to notice. “I never get to go out to drink much nowadays, with work and all. So, I’m sorry if I order too much. Large groups of people aren’t really my thing. Not that I hate people, or anything. I guess they just make me nervous.”
And as the bartender pours her shot glass full of tequila, his eyes don’t make the slightest move to leave her. He’s gawking, looking smug as if he could ever stand a chance.
Y/n pretends not to notice.
“Look, I close down the bar in an hour. And since large groups of people aren’t really your thing, why don’t I take you somewhere nice —”
“Oh...”
“— just you and me, so I can have the chance to get to know you more? Maybe in more ways than one, if I’m lucky?”
Oh, fuck no.
Flirting is one thing, but listening as some stranger talks about wanting to have sex with his girlfriend is something entirely different. Especially when she hasn’t done anything other than be nice and considerate towards him.
He’s taking advantage of her kindness.
Harry can’t hold himself back anymore.
“Excuse me?”
And curse his fucking natural lack of emotion because it was supposed to sound threatening and protective, but rather, it must have come off the way any other customer were to grab a bartender’s attention because he looks over at him with a tight and strained smile, clearly laced with annoyance, with not a hint of suspicion.
“Yes, sir, what can I help you with?”
Harry clenches his jaw and nods his head, his gaze falling to the top of the bar as he tries — really, really tries — to keep himself together instead of knocking this poor bloke’s teeth in.
The urge is there, but he could never scare Y/n like that, or sacrifice his job for satisfaction’s sake — he was lucky he didn’t jeopardize it when he landed a solid right hook on his coworker a few months back. But to make such a rude, blunt, disrespectful comment to his girlfriend is too much for him to process.
But it’s not all anger. There’s something else there — something else brewing and swelling inside of him that’s never been there before. He can’t identify it no matter how hard he tries.
“It would help me tremendously, actually, if you were to stop asking to sleep with my girlfriend right in front of me.”
It’s silent for a moment, the air thick with tension as the bartender looks both between Harry and Y/n, Y/n and Harry. He looks weary of it, as if it were so impossible for her to ever be seen with somebody like him.
“You’re with him?” He asks Y/n, as if Harry’s word wasn’t enough and it nearly throws him off the deep end.
Y/n’s eyes blink with confusion and shock as she tries to adjust herself to her surroundings. Everything happened so quickly to her, she feels like she can’t keep up.
Harry senses this — he senses her uncertainty and uneasiness and takes notice in the way her fingers begin to grip at her shot glass a bit tighter. Confrontation and arguments are not Y/n’s strong suit and in the hands of either one, she is defenseless.
“Is my word not enough for you?”
The bartender lifts his hands up in defense, his eyebrows raised as if somehow proving a point he’s clearly been missing. “Can’t blame me for assuming she’s single, you’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.”
Harry’s hands turn to fists, his jaw clenching and eyebrows twitching as he hears him speak all the words he’d rather die than hear spoken again.
How a complete stranger can cut a wound so deep within him is unfathomable, but here he is, bleeding out with all his insecurities and flaws and weaknesses along with it. And it pains him. It hurts and if one more wrong word is spoken, he’ll fall victim to all the darkest parts of himself.
He can’t risk that, not around Y/n.
“I would highly suggest you stop talking now —”
“You aren’t even interested in her! I gave her more attention in the last ten minutes than you’ve given her all night!”
“Hey.” Y/n cuts in with pouted lips, her face fallen as her voice quivers at the argument brewing in front of her. “That’s not true. He — he’s been beside me all night. I thought it was — I thought it was obvious.”
“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going home.”
Harry’s tone is unlike anything she’s ever heard. It’s stern, harsh, laced with impatience as he stands from his barstool and scrambles to gather her belongings.
And Y/n’s at a loss, just standing against the bar helplessly, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and shaking lips. He has never been this angry at her before and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Talking was what got them into this mess, she’s sure talking won’t get themselves out of it.
But it doesn’t hurt to try.
“Wait, H. I’m sorry, I —”
“That’s enough, now. We’re making our last rounds and then we’re going straight home.”
That was the first time he’s ever interrupted her.
-
It isn’t until Harry starts the car that Y/n breaks the silence.
“H, I didn’t know he was going to ask me out on a date.” She speaks with a voice small and shoulders slumped as she tries desperately to fix all the trust she has broken. “I was just trying to be nice and —”
“Not now, Y/n, please.”
She realizes the severity of the situation when he doesn’t call her a pet name.
Her eyes fill with tears, fully aware that even when he was most upset with her, he never interrupted her while talking or avoided her gaze like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He’s doing both right now and to say that it hurt her is an understatement.
He’s sick of hearing me speak. He’s angry at me for talking too much to everybody and not noticing the consequences. He’s tired of listening to me make excuses for myself when I’m never going to change. He doesn’t want this anymore.
Her mind can’t help but to think such things, and though deep down in her heart she knows he’d never feel that way towards her, words of her past can’t help but torment her in the heat of this moment. Because this is so different than how it usually is with him, and it all started with her.
Harry can feel how much of a toll his words took on her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He is feeling so many things, and processing so much, he feels like he’s lost himself. All sense of everything else had left him the second the bartender spoke the words he always feared to hear.
You’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.
He knows it isn’t true, and he also knows she knows it isn’t true, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
To know other people see it that way devastates him. He doesn’t date Y/n to look uninterested in her, or bored of her, or tired to be with her — he dates Y/n because he wants to show her off, desires to make her and everybody else see how in love with her he is, to make it known she never has to walk this world alone.
To know he has failed to do that simply by being himself is a lot for him to take in.
He sighs, ripping off his glasses so his other hand can rub at his burning eyes before settling the both of them back on the steering wheel, his gaze still set on the windshield.
“I’m sorry for not letting you finish talking, twice now. It wasn’t right and I know what that does to you. And I’m not angry or upset with you, either. I’m just — I’m just not in the mood right now, alright? I need some time to think.”
Y/n nods, fearing that whatever words she chooses to speak will only make it worse.
Neither of them talk the rest of the way home, but that doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t reach his hand over to her thigh to squeeze at it three times, as if to tell her he loves her.
-
It isn’t until they make it into their bedroom that Harry starts to let it all out.
He’s pacing, his hands fidgeting with his clothes and running through his hair, his eyes wild but still refusing to look at her, muttering curses under his breath but nothing directly towards her just yet.
Y/n’s standing by the dresser, taking off her remaining jewelry and allowing him his time to dwell on his feelings. He needs this. She knows she’s the only person that he’ll ever show this kind of emotion to — he couldn't even show it to himself — so she listens, smiles sympathetically at him here and there, refusing to leave his side until this is all figured out.
He huffs before letting out a sickened laugh.
“Who the hell does he think he is? Telling me I’m not interested in you. I can’t be walking around kissing and hovering and touching all over you at a work party, I respect you too much. But he wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he?”
He throws his suit jacket down on the bed, only allowing himself one beat of a moment to shake his head before his hands start to fidget again, pacing around the foot of the bed to try and understand his primary emotion.
He feels a million and ten different emotions scrambling within him at once, he can’t make sense of them. Whether he’s angry, or sad, or hurt, or insecure, or humiliated… he doesn’t know. It all feels the same yet all feels so different. He is utterly lost in all of them.
“Then proceeds to have the nerve to say he’s given you more attention than I have. What the fuck does that even mean? All he does is serve you two drinks and speak one sentence. I give you all my time, all my company, all my attention, and somehow he thinks he’s better for you than me?”
And it hits her.
No wonder he’s been acting so different towards her and so quiet despite him not blaming her for what happened — he’s jealous, which is the exact reason he doesn’t have an understanding with it.
She’s his first girlfriend, and until now, there had never been any reason for him to feel this way.
But as sick and twisted as it sounds, Y/n’s heart warms at the thought of it. Because never once has someone ever had a problem with letting her go. Her loss never affected anybody around her, and so nobody had ever feared it.
To know that out of all people, it’s him who does, means everything to her.
She hums at him, an all too knowing smile on her face as she makes her way to her frantic lover, who stills when he notices her closeness.
Her hands rest at his chest, rubbing at it over his dress shirt, just the way he likes. It reminds him of the night of their first date — when she gave into her cravings and put her hands nearly everywhere they could touch — and so she always goes back to that very first moment.
It never fails him.
“It’s okay, lovebug.” Y/n smiles softly at him, her voice even more soft and tender than usual as she tries to get him to relax.
Her hands slither down the hem of his trousers, her fingers resting just above the swell of his bum and pulling him in closer to her. And he wraps his arms around her shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before bringing his chest toward her cheek for it to nest in.
“Don’t let somebody get the best of you. Especially when they don’t know anything about you or me or our relationship. We know what we are and what we have, it doesn’t matter what he thinks is better for me. I have what’s best. Forever.”
He sighs, the weight of the night lifting from him slightly, but not enough.
He rests his chin on the top of her head, his eyes on the verge of being soaked with tears. Because though he knows her words to be true, he just can’t seem to shake what’s rattling in his bones and picking at his skin.
He wants it all to be okay, and it almost is, just not fully. And it’s killing him from the inside out.
“It’s a new feeling for me.” Harry confesses sadly, trying to think of the right words to say to explain what’s burning in his chest. “It hurts me to feel it. I’m so comfortable and confident in you and yet somehow I can’t — I can’t stop thinking about you and that fucking bartender and him touching you and making you laugh and —”
“You’re jealous.”
She pulls away from him slightly, her eyes looking up at him softly and sympathetically. He gives into her gaze for only a beat longer before looking away from her again, unable to take it.
It all makes sense — the unfamiliar feelings, the scrambling of emotions, the sensitivity to the words that had been spoken about him. His relationship had been threatened for the first time since it started, how could he not be?
“Of course I’m jealous. Which is absolutely horrible because you look so pretty yet it hurts too much to look at you.”
She chuckles, a playful smirk on her face as she reaches her hands up to his cheeks. And she turns his head to the side, forcing his eyes to look into hers as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbones.
Even like this, he is the most perfect man she’s ever seen. She has loved this person longer than she has loved anything else, how he could ever feel jealous of anybody is absolutely beyond her. He is all she will ever need, and everything she will ever want.
He is the only person that has ever deserved her.
“Baby, you have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t think, since the moment I’ve laid eyes on you, I’ve ever bothered to look for anybody else.” His breath faults, then, his heart dropping as if it were falling in love all over again.
And just like that, the hurt is gone.
“I’m yours, H. I have always been yours.”
He wants her to keep going, so instead of answering, he taps the back of her thigh twice. He’s never done so outside of sex, but he needs her all over him, holding him, hanging onto him. He needs it now more than ever.
She giggles, understanding exactly what he wants before jumping up until her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are looped around his neck. He catches her instantly, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck and kissing at the exposed skin.
She loves how much her words have an affect on him.
“I love you so much. I always will. No matter how many sleazy men ask me to sleep with them.”
He whines, lifting his head from her shoulder before looking at her with sad eyes and pouted lips at the subtle reminder that somebody else thought of her that way. Only he has, only he can, it doesn’t matter the circumstance.
She’s his.
She smiles down at him with a small blush on her cheeks, her arms unwrapping from his neck so her hands can grip his face again.
“I sleep with you. Every night. In more ways than one.” She kisses at his lips. “Cause I’m lucky.”
And for the first time tonight, he smiles. And as if that wasn’t enough for her, he laughs too — quietly, breathlessly — his hands rubbing all along her lower back and her thighs.
“Hmm... I am lucky, aren’t I?” Harry hums in bliss, his eyes looking at her fondly as she hangs on his neck in their home and it doesn’t get better than this. She had a man practically drooling on her lap and yet she’s here, with him, loving him, choosing him, just like she always has. “I do have the prettiest girl in the world. And the sweetest. And the strongest.”
“Too bad you couldn’t be bothered.” She teases, a smirk on her lips before her tongue pokes out to run quickly against his closed lips.
He lets out an almost sinister laugh, rumbling so deep in his chest she somehow manages to feel it in her legs.
“Why don’t I show you how bothered I am?”
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagines#harry styles imagine#harry styles preference
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shiver, m | myg
pairing(s): yoongi x reader mentions of jimin x reader, namjoon x reader
summary: Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin set you up after vain attempts to cure your, what they call, chronic high-strung workaholic tendencies. Bleh. As if a date with Min Yoongi is going to help the situation. You aren't going on this date and, even if you did, you wouldn't take him home and fuck him all night. Or admit he was giving you that shiver.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language, slight crack (you tweezed a hair off Jimin's dick); mentions of previous partners and implied smut; smut (fem reader, mild bondage, f-receiving oral, lil bit of a praise kink, doggy); non-idol!AU - music producer!Yoongi x pansexual, softdom!reader, ft best friend and ex-bf!Namjoon, (maybe too) close friend!Jimin, friend!Taehyung
--
“Look, I like dick, okay? The gender attached to it doesn’t bother me. A dick’s a dick and if you want to put it in me, I’m down, and if you don’t and wanna do other stuff, that’s cool too, I’m just letting you know I like dick–”
“Who are you talking to?”
You exploded, rocketing your desk chair backwards, nearly dropping your phone, gawking at the tall, dark, handsome man with the baritone voice standing in your bedroom door, blinking at you slowly with his brown doe eyes and long lashes, black-brown curls framing his tanned cheekbones and strong brows.
“T-Taehyung?!”
Kim Taehyung raised a sculpted eyebrow. “Why were you practicing a speech about dick?”
You clutched your phone, flapping your jaw loosely, pointing to it, to him, to yourself, rambling nonsense.
“There’s this app and I was writing a message to someone and they were worried about – but I wasn’t sure if it sounded right – and what, why are you here…?”
He raised the other eyebrow. “I want to talk to Jimin about something. He said he was going to stop by later so he gave me your key.” He raised his hand and, there it was, your house key. “Said it was fine if I just walked in.”
Park Jimin… said it was fine… to walk into your apartment? Without asking you first.
Who raised this child?!
To be fair, it was fine. You weren’t upset at Taehyung specifically. You didn’t know him as well as Jimin, who was one of your closest friends, but he was Jimin’s best friend. You trusted Jimin’s choice in friends, but, jeez, he really was lackadaisical when it came down to your personal space. He acted like it didn’t exist.
“Ah… okay,” you said, clearing your throat and placing your phone, screen down, on your desk.
“Why is Jimin hanging out here? You guys dating?” Taehyung asked off-handedly.
You nearly choked on air.
“No, we are not,” you snorted, walking up to him. He looked nice. Taehyung always did. He was casually sexy in his green sweater and dark gray pants. He was the kind of guy who could wear anything and look great simply because he walked around with such calm confidence. “I don’t know exactly; he said we should hang out and watch movies because I’m, how did he put it, a chronic high-strung workaholic who needs divine intervention.”
Taehyung nodded, pursing his lips. “True.”
“Excuse me?” you snapped.
He ignored your outburst. “I suppose he considers himself the divine intervention?”
“Uh, well, yeah, I guess, I didn’t think of it like that–”
“You’ve never thought about his dick?”
You blinked rapidly. “What.”
Taehyung shrugged. “I mean, you guys hang out a lot. And you like dick,” he added, gesturing to your phone, to which you abruptly jerked to stand in front of it so it was no longer in his vision. “You might want to consider seeing his dick.”
“I’ve seen his dick.”
Now it was Taehyung’s turn to blink rapidly. “What.”
You raised your hands in innocence. “He had a hair on his dick.”
“… What.”
You scratched the back of your head. “Well, he had a hair growing on the underside of his dick and he couldn’t get to it so he asked me to help, but you can’t exactly pluck a hair when the dick is limp so I helped him get hard and then I tweezed it off and he was very upset, even though he was the one who asked me to do it so I don’t know why he was so sobby about it, but I ended up putting it in my–”
Taehyung was staring at you, slack-jawed.
You stopped speaking, realizing what you were saying.
Your front door opened.
“Hey, Taehyung! Thanks for leaving the door open for me. Where are you guys? Oh, there you are. What are you guys doing?”
You both turned to look at the cheerful, oblivious face of Park Jimin, his previously blond hair freshly dyed black. He must have been at a hair appointment running late. He sent you both a big, beaming smile.
“Eh?”
-
"I need you to do something."
"What?"
Once again, someone needing you to do something. Who would have guessed? Just an endless cycle of people asking you to do things. When is someone ever going to ask you what you want to do? Hm?
Hmph.
He shoved another spoonful of red bean ice cream in your mouth and you continued listening because of it.
"I need you to sleep with Min Yoongi."
You choked and had a mild brainfreeze.
"Just kidding, I only need you to go on a date with him."
Not much better.
You gawked at Park Jimin, who continued calmly scooping out another spoonful of ice cream to feed you. As if this was normal behavior. You missed the blond hair on him. Blond-haired Jimin didn't suggest this kind of random bullshit. Black-haired Jimin was evil. His hair was full of secrets.
You know, that kind of person.
Jimin lifted the spoon and opened his plump lips as if he was instructing a child how to eat. You gave him an indignant scowl and he shoved the spoon in the crack of your open lips. That got him a disgruntled tut.
"Jimin, I'm not library book, you can’t let your friends borrow me when they need to look taken."
He rolled his eyes, all the sass and lacking in class. "That was one time, and you know Taehyungie's ex was a persistent bitch."
"Yeah, I had to slap her, remember?"
Jimin's hair has been black then too, when he asked you to help him. Mmmhmm. Help.
"She deserved that slap!"
"But why did I have to do it?" you grumbled. "You can slap a ho. You don't need me."
"I shouldn't hit a girl no matter how much of a lying, cheating scumbag she is," Jimin puffed, angrily jabbing at the ice cream and shoving it into your mouth. You glared at him. Why was he taking it out on you? He was lucky you loved this brand, otherwise he'd be getting slapped right now.
"Oh, but I should, okay, cool."
"You'd slap anything and call it your bitch."
You were about to retort but then you lowered your hand, frowning. "Okay, true, but that doesn't explain why you're pawning me off to Yoongi now."
"Because you need it."
And you snapped your head around to see Kim Namjoon, your ex-boyfriend, now best friend, waltz into your bedroom like he owned the damn place. You did, in fact, give him your key and you were expecting him, so it wasn’t exactly a surprise, but you complained anyway, because that’s what humans do. Complain.
"Is nothing sacred in my home?" you muttered as Namjoon grabbed your desk chair and rolled it over to the bed, sitting down in front of you and Jimin. You were wearing black pajamas with little cats on them and Jimin was wearing the yellow ones with little dogs on them. Button-up shirt and long pants. Same brand and style, different print. Namjoon, however, was wearing a white graphic t-shirt and loose brown trousers with thin tortoise-shell and gold framed glasses that didn't have any lenses in them.
You were very tempted to poke him in the eye but, alas, you had some self-restraint.
"I thought you were going to talk about this last night," Namjoon mused, raising an eyebrow at Jimin.
Jimin suddenly seemed incredibly interested in getting the perfect spoonful of ice cream. "I got distracted."
"Horny. He means he got horny."
A violently large chunk of red bean ice cream was shoved in your mouth.
Namjoon laughed at your near-death expression.
"Don't tell him," Jimin hissed. "That's fucking weird. He's your ex."
"Then why would you do it?" Namjoon chuckled. "For the record, the relationship is no longer romantic, so I would no longer have a say even if it did bother me."
"I... well..." The younger man sputtered awkwardly.
You coughed and beat your sternum, glaring at Jimin. "The hell was that for? I rode your dick!"
Namjoon seemed highly amused and suddenly invested. "Ah, yes, and then?"
"Well, maybe it would have helped the situation..." Jimin said shiftily, eyes darting about as he turned bright red.
"Helped what?" you grunted, rubbing your throat at the uncomfortable sensation of a half-frozen esophagus.
"Doesn't seem like it helped," Namjoon remarked, placing a hand on his chin, still smiling.
You narrowed your eyes. "What are you talking about? All Jimin was going on about last night was how he hadn't had a good fuck in years–"
Namjoon snorted. "Years? Huh, that's odd, I seem to recall you getting laid four months ago at that party."
"That was four months ago and it was terrible!" Jimin whined, shaking the spoon. "And why are you talking about this with her, ahhhh!"
You and Namjoon shared a confused look as Jimin freaked out and snarfed down the rest of the ice cream, completely forgetting that he was using it as leverage to convince you of his grand master plan.
"Was it nice?" Namjoon inquired, diverting his attention from Jimin’s panic.
"Yeah, it was nice to have a partner who wasn't a complete idiot for once."
"That's good. I'm surprised you didn't ask before, honestly. You two are always hanging out."
"Never thought about it. What about you?"
"Ah, I fucked that girl who works at that coffee shop."
"Oh, yeah, the one with the nice tits?"
"Mmm, unfortunately that's about as much good as you can say about that one."
"That's sad. I'm sorry."
"Heh, no big deal, it'll happen when it happens. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that."
"Can you guys stop doing that thing?" Jimin grumbled from his spot on the bed, clutching the ice cream container and surrounding himself with your copious amount of cat plushies, including your one-meter-long giant calico cat. His ears were still red.
"What thing?" Namjoon asked, tilting his head.
"Yeah, what thing?" you echoed, raising your brows.
Jimin rolled his eyes. "I don't get why you guys broke up."
"Pretty simple reason, really."
"I think it's obvious," you agreed.
Jimin looked from you to Namjoon, frowning.
"Well?' he demanded.
You looked at Namjoon and he caught your eye, trying not to smile. "Oh, he wants us to tell him."
"Huh, kinda seems like it, yeah. A little invasive, don't you think?" Namjoon pretended to think, rubbing his chin.
"He is a little bit of a, how to say this, nosy little brat."
"Hello, I am right here?!"
"That's a little harsh. Perhaps more akin to the local neighborhood bird that's always flying around, intruding on conversations with their loud chirping."
"You are very kind."
Jimin looked livid. He chucked one of your cat plushies at your head and you cracked up, falling to the bed laughing. Namjoon shook his head, laughing with you in that rich, full tone with low depth, a little goofy and with a lot of dimple.
"It's a dumb reason, but basically we weren’t feeling that spark," you explained, sitting up and pushing your hair out of your face. "Sure, we could fuck just fine, but it was too obvious that something was missing. We're better as friends."
"You wanna get married if we're both eighty and single?" Namjoon joked.
"Yikes, if I'm eighty and single, fuck, might as well."
"Perfect, always wanted to know how much libido I would have at that age."
"Anyway," Jimin scowled. "Back to the matter at hand."
"Oh, right, what do you think about Yoongi-hyung? He's single and he’s nice."
You rubbed your nose. “Ah, I don’t know him very well. He’s quiet, isn’t he? I get the impression that he’s a chill and lazy guy. Doesn’t talk much.”
Namjoon nodded. “Maybe you need that.”
You made a face. “Why?”
“You are kind of a chronic high-strung workaholic,” Jimin cut in.
You twitched. “No, I’m not.”
Namjoon nodded sagely. “You kind of are. I would know.”
“Ah, don’t do me like that,” you sighed, admitting defeat.
“Did sleeping with Jimin help?” he prompted.
“Why would that help?”
“Wow, that’s really rude,” Jimin snapped.
“But why would that help me be less of a workaholic?” you retorted, frowning. “I’m not following your logic.”
Namjoon rubbed his chin. “Maybe just a date then. With a calm guy. It will be a change of pace and you can get to know Yoongi-hyung better at the same time.”
You twisted your lips. “Why?”
He shrugged. “I think you’ll like him if you knew him better.”
You frowned.
“I don’t want to be passed around your entire friend group like a hot potato, Namjoon. I’m not going on a date with him.”
-
“Wow, Namjoon, you look a lot like your ex-girlfriend. Is it that new diet?”
Why are you standing here? Why did you agree to this? Why is did people ask you to do things and you do them? Because you were nice, that’s why. Deep, deep down in that frozen glacier canyon you called a heart. Shit. Why couldn’t you just be a bitch? That would make life a whole that easier.
“New diet and a lot of plastic surgery, modelled after the hottest woman I know,” you said sarcastically, turning around to face the deep voice.
“Mmm, I agree.”
You froze a little, seeing Min Yoongi standing there nonchalantly. Black hat with two silver rings punched into it, black leather jacket over a white t-shirt, black jeans with rips at the knees. Nice black boots. Silver hoop earrings and an assortment of silver rings. Yoongi had always dressed well, but it felt strange knowing he still dressed like this even though it was to meet you.
Well, maybe it was just because he was out being seen by people and not you specifically.
“I didn’t know you liked rap,” Yoongi commented, holding up his ticket.
You held up yours. “I like all music. And who doesn’t like Epik High?” You laughed a little. “Funny that you also printed out the ticket. Does that make us old?”
Yoongi shrugged. “I like having a physical copy. For memories.”
“Mmm. Sentimental.”
He looked to the direction of the venue. Then he looked back to you. There was something different in his expression now. You tilted your head. Then you saw his dark brown orbs slide up and down. A strange shiver went up your spine.
Yoongi was checking you out.
And he wasn’t hiding it.
“You look nice.”
You didn’t miss the way the side of his lips curved upwards, giving his words little bit of a dangerous edge.
You looked down at yourself, at the black denim jacket layered over a long black-and-white striped shirtdress. Thick-soled knee-high black boots, because you were going to a concert and wanted to be comfortable. Your mesh silver choker cut into your neck a little from looking downwards. You wore a single ring on your left hand, middle finger.
A silver raven’s skull.
“Ah… should have put forth more effort. You look neater than I do,” you mused, starting to walk.
“Hm.”
You almost didn’t hear his next words.
“If you had put forth more effort, it might have been too risky for me.”
You ticked you head back and found Yoongi smirking at you under his hat, flashing a bit of his white teeth.
“You gonna drink?”
-
“I told you, I gotta drive.”
“I’m not pressuring you. I’m just confused why you would buy overpriced water.”
You clicked you tongue. “Well, they don’t exactly let you bring your own.”
Yoongi chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.
“And besides, you’re buying even more overpriced alcohol, so you’re worse.”
His eyes slid to yours. “I need it.”
You unscrewed the cap and drank the cold water, feeling it ice your veins. “And I need hydration.”
“You don’t drink because you lose control, huh? Control of what, exactly?”
You shifted on your heels. “I get too oppressive. It’s no good for anybody.”
You usually arrived early to these things, so there was time to kill. There were lots of people around, but for some reason it felt like the only person you could hear was Yoongi standing right next to you. The other people around you were only white noise.
“Namjoon and Jimin say you work too much.”
You clicked your tongue. “Namjoon and Jimin need to mind their own business.”
Yoongi chuckled. There was a dry rasp to it, low and sexy. “You still work at that hospital?”
“Yeah. I work on their software. There’s always something wrong with that outdated piece of shit,” you muttered. “Should really just tear it up and overhaul it, but the superiors won’t do it because it’s expensive. Like it isn’t expensive fixing it every five seconds, but okay.”
“Heh, that’s how that generation is. Outdated.”
You huffed. “Mmm, you can say that again.” You cocked your water bottle to him. “You work at the same music company as Namjoon, right? Producer?”
Yoongi nodded. “Mhm.”
You sensed a little bit of embarrassment for some reason. Then you noticed he was looking at your ring.
“You wondering about this?” You turned your wrist and held it up, water swishing behind it.
“You always wear it. Namjoon give it to you?” he asked, taking another sip of his beer.
You shook your head, laughing a little. “Nah. Different ex.” You looked down at it. “And they didn’t give it to me. They said something to me and it stuck with me. When I saw this ring, I decided to buy it.”
You recalled the quote like it was yesterday.
“Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door.”
Yoongi blinked at you.
You translated the English from Korean and he raised his eyebrows.
“Edgar Allan Poe?”
You dropped your hand, clicking your tongue. “Basically saying I was a lingering poison of a human being and they wanted to break up with me.”
Yoongi tutted. “Interesting. How creative.”
You rolled your eyes. “What I get for fucking literature majors during university, I guess.”
“But you brought the ring anyway.”
You paused, looking down at the silver raven skull.
“To remind myself to stop fucking literature majors.”
You looked up at Yoongi and his eyes searching your expression. It was suddenly a weird moment, his eyes so solidly on you, as if he could see everything, but that was impossible. Your skin tingled all over, even under your clothes.
“They were insecure, huh?” he murmured.
You shrugged. “Made me question every fucking interaction I've ever had, wondering if I left the wrong impression or could be misinterpreted or some shit. Everything was so messed up.” You frowned, adjusting your shoulder slightly, sighing out the thoughts of the past. “Ah, it was a long time ago anyway. I’ve already erased them.”
“Is that why you broke up with Namjoon?”
You rolled your eyes. “Why does everybody think there’s some big drama between Namjoon and I? Would we still be friends if there was something that serious?”
Yoongi took another sip. “I think I speak for everyone when I say it seemed like you suited each other.”
“Hah, it’s not that we don’t have similarities. Kind of the opposite, really.” You waved a hand. “You know, two people have certain preferences and one of us was always on the bottom and neither of us liked that. Maybe it was him or me, and I love the guy, but not like that. We could fuck and it would be great, but we both agreed there wasn’t that… feeling. That shiver you get with that person. Sometimes I think we only got together because everyone kept pressuring us, saying we should, and not because we actually wanted to.”
“Hmm.”
The lights dimmed and you turned to face the stage.
“What about Jimin?”
“What about him?”
“Heard you plucked a hair off his dick.”
You twitched. “Let me guess, Taehyung told you.”
“Taehyung told everyone. He was a bit drunk.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “Jimin’s a great friend, but he’s a bit clingy with me. Always wants to be near someone. It can be good for some people, but I don’t think I could take it twenty-four-seven if we were actually dating. Not my type.”
“Do you have a type?”
You shot Yoongi a look as the crowd began to hum with excitement. “Do you?”
Those cat-like eyes gleamed in the impeding darkness, a flash of white from his open-mouthed smirk.
“I wouldn’t have agreed to this date if I didn’t.”
-
“Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yeah, it was great. Never seen you excited like that, eh, Yoongi?” You smacked him lightly in the arm, smirking. “That’s the most energy I’ve ever seen you have.”
He stuck his tongue in his cheek. His cheeks were lightly pink, although he didn’t seem drunk. “I have energy. I’m just not wasting it.”
“Hmm.”
A short silence as the crowd filtered out around you, but again, even though you were surrounded by people, the only one that seemed to be heard was the man in front of you, peering down at you from underneath his black cap, a small smirk on his lips, tiny flash of pink tongue as he moved it inside his mouth.
“You driving home, yes?”
“Yeah.” You stared into his brown eyes. “Want a ride?”
An eyebrow lifted. “Inviting me to fuck?”
Blunt.
You scoffed. “Nah. I already told Namjoon and Jimin I’m not gonna be passed around their friend group like a hot potato. This was nice though. I enjoyed it.”
He looked you up and down again. That strange shiver went up and down your spine again. He stared you down. You stared back, unrelenting. The world was loud, but this moment was your eyes and his eyes, electricity between them.
Yoongi’s smirk widened.
-
"I always wanted a beautiful woman to tie me up."
Men. Women. Nonbinary. Agender. Gender neutral. Gender fluid. Didn't fucking matter, people were people, and they always wanted shit from you. Always. It was always about what they could get from you and how they could pretend to be what you wanted to get what they wanted. Everyone always looking out for themselves.
You could respect that.
Just, for once, it would be nice if someone wanted to give you what you wanted.
You cracked your neck and looked down at his dark eyes covered in messy black hair, his pale cheeks less pink now, his head on your pillows and sandwiched in between your plethora of cat plushies, pink lower lip in his teeth.
Smirking.
Wasn't hiding a damn thing.
"Who knew you could be a bad boy, Min Yoongi?"
His smirk widened, tongue between his teeth.
"I'm good when I'm good. When I'm bad, I'm better."
His black cap with the two silver rings was somewhere on your bedroom floor and so was his leather jacket, his shirt, his jeans, and his socks. His pale wrists were tied together with red bondage rope. Yours. You were straddling his chest, missing only one article of clothing.
Alright, you were missing socks too.
No one fucked with socks on. If you did, maybe it was time to reevaluate your life.
“You don’t mind being tied up, hm?” you taunted, sliding out of your jacket, tossing it aside.
Everyone wanted something.
What did Min Yoongi want?
Yoongi let his tongue slide out, dancing in the air. Taunting you back before replying.
“Just because you’re tied up doesn’t mean you’re not in control.”
Your hand paused in front of the button placket of your shirtdress. You traced a button with your thumb, slowly, watching his face. Spread your legs more, lowering yourself, hovering over him. You could feel him breathe under you, patient, humming with energy. He flitted the wet pink muscle, skimming his lower lip, waiting. Dark brown orbs hazed with lust under strands of black.
“You wanna stop after sitting on my face, that’s fine, but you have to at least sit on my face.”
You chuckled. “Yeah?”
You sat down on his torso and he sucked in a breath, eyes flicking down to the darkness still covered by your shirt, then back up to your face. You shifted your hips slowly, smearing the hot, dripping softness on his skin.
“Could just… stop here.”
You scooted upward, drawing a fat line of your juices up his chest and to his neck. You knew how much pressure to apply. Didn’t seem to matter though, because Yoongi didn’t seem to give a fuck. He tipped his head back, pressing his Adam’s apple into your throbbing heat and shuddering in pleasure. His gaze found yours and you stopped, suddenly trapped, a moment of his eyes and your eyes, electricity flaring between them.
“I’m glad Namjoon asked me to take you on a date,” Yoongi drawled, deep voice vibrating your heated, wet core from his throat. “Made me feel less guilty about wanting to fuck you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Got some weird bro code rules or something?”
He smirked. “Oh, I respect him.” He swallowed and you felt a shiver slide up your spine, feeling the action from your throbbing pussy faster than you heard it. “I just want you more.” Exhale, and you felt the warmth against your shirt, making it flutter. You unbuttoned it slowly, one by one. “Want to see the satisfaction on your face when I make you cum.” Slowly, not parting the shirt yet, letting him see the line of exposed skin. His eyes travelled up and down shamelessly, not hiding anything. He noticed you observing him and grinned.
That open-mouthed smirk, teeth and hint of tongue.
“Come on. Give it to me.”
Voice so deep it seemed to be shimmering through you, dark eyes flashing in the darkness.
Teasing you.
“Gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll untie me and beg me to fuck you.”
You cocked a brow.
“Let’s see.”
You sat on his face.
You felt Yoongi’s smirk against your soaked folds for a second before his tongue slid in, instantly making your thighs tense at the sensation. Hot to hot, wet to wet, no, wetter, your hands on your headboard as his tongue curled inside you, thrusting upwards, drinking the wetness from you, low moan vibrating through your torso and you felt his eyes on you, on your shirt slowly opening, one shoulder gliding down, and you shrugged out of it, suddenly boiling, skin pricking from the heat of his gaze, tossing it aside, leaving you in your black bra.
He tipped his chin up and you gasped, feeling his tongue swipe upward, fuck, a smooth, deft motion, circling your clit. You clicked your tongue and rolled your hips into his face. Yoongi chuckled before latching onto it and sending a burning wave of pleasure through you.
Your nails dug into the headboard, making a loud scrape.
He purred your name against your packed nerves and you drenched his chin, glaring down at him.
Yoongi had the audacity to bounce his eyebrow in response.
Alright, you could admit it.
Going on a date with Min Yoongi was not a waste of time.
You grinded against his face and he sucked and licked your clit at the same time, fuck, moans in his throat, not unaffected by you humping his face, but resolute, focused on his task of pleasuring you, shivering as your hand fitted around his head, fingers tangling in his already messy black hair, roughly fucking his face as his tongue assaulted you, somehow the perfect mix of demanding and servitude, hot exhale on your skin, your juices covering his chin and cheeks, your soft thighs pressed against his face, teetering between suffocating and barely enough breath, closer, closer, the tightness rising within you, looking down as you felt your opening flexing against his chin and his eyes flickered up to you instantly, imprinting the memory of his dark brown orbs overtaken by black pupils staring into yours, lips wrapped around your clit, in the midst of pushing you to the edge.
“Fucking shit,” you hissed. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
Something flitted in his eyes and he looked back down immediately, increasing his pace and you moaned, closed fist against the headboard, but not missing his reaction. A slow smile grew on your lips, hand in his hair relaxing, massaging his scalp.
“You like being praised?” you purred, sweet octave to your voice.
The quickest flick of his gaze before licking your clit furiously as a reply.
Hot sparks igniting your veins, drawing in a tight breath, staring down, putting a little more weight on him, but Yoongi didn’t say anything, not even looking at you anymore, so close. You knew it would only take a little more. You could tell from the viscous slickness that was coating his skin that you had maybe seconds left.
“A handsome face and talented tongue,” you breathed. “No wonder I couldn’t resist you, Yoongi.”
His whimper made you tremble in delight, eyes to eyes, addicted to it, him to you and you to him, and you gasped his name, biting your lip and throwing your head back as your hips rocked into his mouth and spilled onto his face with a wet squelch, fuck, so much even you could smell it, hearing Yoongi groan as it filled his mouth, his tongue shoving into your folds and lapping up the rapid pulses, your throbbing clit on the back of his tongue, pressing into you, his nose in your crotch, one of your hands in his hair and one on the headboard, muscles flexing and quivering with the ecstasy, eyelids closing, immersed in it. Savoring the feeling coursing through your body, from your core to your limbs to your head, filling you with shivers that were unlike anything you had ever felt before.
You removed some pressure from his face, letting go of his head, but Yoongi followed, hungrily licking you all over, nipping at your inner thighs, flinches of pleasure extending your high before going back to your pussy, up, down, side to side, drenching you in his saliva and drinking your cum like it was his fucking life force.
Well, shit.
You opened your eyes, panting.
Damn.
You had a whole speech prepared for Namjoon and Jimin about how setting you up with their friends was a bad idea and how they should mind their own fucking business and now you had to prepare a speech about how you needed your house keys back because you were going to fuck Min Yoongi every second of every day and you hadn’t even had his dick yet.
You looked down at him.
Yoongi’s eyes were slightly unfocused, exhaling heavily against your crotch, staring at it.
“Fuck me, you have a pretty pussy,” he muttered under his breath. “Fuck.”
Half of your cat plushies were on the bed and the other half were on the floor.
“You have an excellent tongue,” you chuckled. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
He blinked once and his gaze was on you, half-shyness, half-cockiness, wholly sexy as fuck.
“Didn’t want to make Namjoon feel bad,” he snickered, pink lips shiny with your juices. “You would have left him a lot sooner if you knew.”
You raised an eyebrow.
Something about his tone make you think Yoongi meant it on some level.
You wouldn’t have tried to find out, but now that you experienced it…
Maybe.
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
Yoongi gave you that smirk you were beginning to become addicted to seeing. “That all you want from me?”
You laughed, sly and full.
“No, Yoongi, I’m gonna need your dick.”
-
“I don’t beg, so I’m not untying you.”
“Damn, what a terrible result.”
Yoongi didn’t seem the least bit worried about it.
He sank his nails into your ass and pushed himself in, your hand snaked below to guide him. You weren’t unreasonable, after all. You helped him put on the condom and shoved your tits in his face, rubbing your nipples all over his cheeks, his pink tongue stretching from side to side, eyes on you the entire time, getting harder and harder with the way you manhandled him, moaning into your skin.
Not hiding anything.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hissed, gritting his teeth, gripping your ass, wrists still bound. He violently smacked his hips into your ass and you grinned, hands now on the bed.
“Mmm, what a nice…” You pulsed, making Yoongi groan. “Hard.” Again, hearing his ecstasy. “Cock.” He scraped your ass and up your back, gasping for breath, desperation in his touch. You turned your head, giving him the reflection of his own smirk. He gazed back, eyes glazed over, torso shuddering from the repeated massaging of his length buried in you, all from your muscle control.
“Hold on, Yoongi.”
Something between teasing and adoration, and you visibly saw Yoongi tremble in excitement.
“You got it.”
You turned back and sank your hands into your pillows, sliding on his stiffness and ramming yourself back onto it, making both him and you groan in unison, rough, deep strokes of visceral fucking, you commanding the pace. Didn’t matter if you were the one on your hands and knees, you used him and he wanted to be used, barely able to grip your waist, moaning your name and fucking you back, loud, sloppy smacks of ass to crotch, flexing your shoulder blades akin to a lioness on the prowl chasing their prey, and you heard Yoongi chuckle, breathing swallow and euphoric.
“Look at this back view, fuck, you are the sexiest woman alive.”
Breathless with desire, smug at having you, in awe of your prowess, all at once, clutching the small of your waist as you clenched around him, the shudders of your walls closing in, painting his crotch and balls with you, his quivering moan trapped in his chest because he could barely get it out. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, feeling him fill you as you pushed back, the rush immeasurable, unfathomable, anchoring your palms into your mattress and growling his name, the smacking of hips to hips, desperation to desperation, a brief reprieve as you snatched a cat plush and jammed it under your chest before you reached back and felt for the end of the rope, unlacing the knot with ease, and Yoongi yanked his wrists free with a swift hiss of satisfaction, grabbing your ass and fiercely fucking you, harder, rougher, just as much for him as it was for you, your name falling from his lips, unable to hide his lust, chasing it, chasing you, and you didn’t let up.
“Yoongi, fuck, yes, your cock feels so fucking good, fuck!”
Deep, intense, powerful, everything you were and everything he was, and it all crashed down, stealing your breath, pleasure clawing up your spine and taking over, lungs suddenly emptied with the force of each hard pulse of pleasure snaking upwards to fill the void, squeezing him so hard that you weren’t sure if that was voluntary or not, your joined inner thighs trembling and dripping, sweet slickness sliding down, drenching you and Yoongi, his groan piercing the air and cutting through your thoughts. His cock twitched and jerked, pumping thick gushes of cum and swelling the condom inside you.
Fucking shit, did you hold your breath? Everything lightheaded and hazy, reaching up and slapping your hand against the headboard, sucking in a lungful of air and rocking your hips back, riding the wave. Your felt Yoongi’s grip on your waist tighten, his pants so heavy you could feel the weight of his exhale on your back, heating your skin.
Snarl in your throat, definitive.
“I need this cock, Yoongi, need you and this perfect cock and I’m going to use it until I’m done.”
Rolling your hips, listening to his wanton moan at your words and the sensation, the messy squish of your movement, clenching around the sensitive head, slow, tight, your fingers curling to a fist, his name on your lips, low and seductive, and he responded in kind, your name in the same tone, drunk on the moment, the feeling, the power you had over him.
His nails in your back, creating long lines down your spine, and the shiver you got with that person, dancing up and down your vertebrate, unmistakable.
Yoongi gave it to you.
-
“Hey, so how’d it go–whoa!”
You popped your head out of your mountain of cat plushies and glared at the offender who burst into your bedroom. Who the fuck was that?
Guess.
“Jimin, do you know what personal space is?” Yoongi muttered from beside you, lifting himself on his elbows to peer disapprovingly over your naked shoulder.
“He doesn’t,” you mumbled, flopping back down.
“So… went well?” came Jimin’s cheerful and teasing voice from the doorframe.
You heard a cat plush get thrown like a cannonball.
“Ow, fuck, okay, I get it, hyung!” Jimin cackled, stumbling down your hallway. “I’ll come back later!”
“Don’t,” Yoongi snapped back, grumbling as he slid back down on the bed.
“You better pick him back up later,” you warned, referring to the plush.
“You dumped half of them on the ground so we could sleep.”
“No, they fell because we were fucking.”
You opened your eyes to see Yoongi smirking at you. There was a cat plush next to his head. One of your favorites. You picked it up and bonked him in the head with it. He made a disgruntled grunt and flinched away from it, ending up closer to your face. Eyes to eyes, electricity between them. You smirked, matching him, leaning in, arm curving around his head.
Tapping the tuxedo cat plush on his shoulder.
His breath against your lips, lust and fondness, not hiding anything.
“Hey, Yoongi.”
“Hm?”
Playing along, a willing participant in your games, one eye open, as if he was winking at you.
“I like you. You’re mine.”
He chuckled, a little raspy, a little embarrassed, and a lot amused.
“Sit on my shoulder, my raven. I’ll never ask you to leave.”
--
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𝐷𝑖𝑙𝑓!𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐷𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 (𝑅𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑)
Warnings: NSFW content including marking, lactation kink, pregnancy sex. Older Ateez but age differences is still within legal boundaries. Allusions to infidelity (which I do not condone nor encourage)
❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
"Y/N. Come on. You gotta focus."
In a futile attempt to try to get his favorite student to get divert her attention back to the screen in front of her, instead he was met by her arms which suddenly wrapped around him.
"Baby, this assignment is due in two days and you haven't even gotten one paragraph down."
Frowning and in need of affection, Y/N didn't budge and instead attempted to pull Hongjoong on top of her.
"I want you to cuddle me!" She demanded.
Hongjoong quickly caught himself before he toppled over her and accidentally put all his weight on the bump that was growing in her.
"And I'll cuddle you all you want.... but can you at least finish part of this?"
Realizing she wasn't going to give up anytime soon, Hongjoong reluctantly gave in and finally settled her on his lap, one arm wrapped around her shoulders while the other caressed the top of her swollen belly.
Not thinking too much about the tiny kisses she was placing along the side of his neck, Hongjoong tilted his head back to rest on the couch and closed his eyes, his body succumbing to the exhaustion of having to teach back at the school in the morning and coming back to help out his pregnant girlfriend. Taking advantage of his unguarded state, Y/N smirked before she latched her mouth onto a certain spot on his neck, sinking her teeth down and sucking on it harshly. Once Hongjoong realized what was happening, his eyes shot up and he carefully tried to pry Y/N off him, proving it to be more difficult since he couldn't use force in fear of hurting her.
"What the fuck Y/N?!" Hongjoong exclaimed when he came back from the bathroom, hand touching the very obvious mark left on his neck.
"I'm sorry. Couldn't help myself." She feigned an innocent smile.
"How am I supposed to go back to the school tomorrow with this on display for everyone to see? How will I even explain it?" He could already imagine the other teachers and students staring at it, the first group no doubt would be nosey and ask about it.
With a cocky grin, Y/N opened her laptop up again.
"Maybe now some of those hags will back off after they realize you're taken."
❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
Coming back after a long day at the courthouse dealing with all the divorce shit, Seonghwa felt like he needed to release some stress or he'd go insane. Coming into the kitchen, he found you quietly standing over the stove, no doubt making food for both of you to eat. You giggled when you felt his hands embrace your large belly, you weren't that far along, but holy hell, carrying twins was something else.
"Have I ever told you you're so beautiful?" He whispered in your ear, teeth grazing against the shell of it. Of course your body was more reactive and sensitive to any touch because your hormones were all over the place. Seonghwa knew that as well and he loved playing with that fact.
Pulling you away from the kitchen, he guided you over to the couch and sat you down. You didn't even question him as he pushed your dress up and slid your panties down, you knew what he was aiming for. You simply inhaled deeply when his mouth began kissing along your inner thighs.
"I hope you don't mind babygirl, but I just really wanted to eat you out."
You nodded at him, resting your elbows on top of some of the cushions so it'd be more comfortable for you. Prying your legs apart as much as they could, Seonghwa carefully placed his mouth on your clit. Starting off with gentle suckles, they soon progressed to more sloppy and intense tongue movements, his lewd slurping sounds mixed in with your soft panting and moaning, setting the mood across the room. Another thing you loved about Seonghwa, he was an expert at oral sex, none of your younger past lovers compared to him in the slightest bit.
Seonghwa let out an accomplished groan when your juices stained all over his face and chin. Pulling away, he himself was panting by how breathless he was left, and he felt proud to see you in an equally similar state as him. Chuckling, he came up and kissed you hungrily, wanting you to taste yourself on his lips. He only pulled away momentarily to tease you.
"I didn't mean to eat my dessert before the meal, but I'm not sorry in the slightest bit."
❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
Yunho didn't even know how to react. Coming home and finding it quiet as usual, he guessed you probably took a nap as you normally did around this time, the pregnancy causing you to become more tired than usual. That's why when he came into the room he was shocked to see you moving underneath the blankets. Your frustrated moans give a big hint as to what was happening.
"Y/N?"
Your eyes shot wide open and your head peeped out from under the covers. You suddenly felt so embarrased, your face turning bright red. You tossed over to the other side, hiding your face away from Yunho. Being the sweetheart he was, he went over to your side and caressed your figure.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you." He apologized although he wasn't in the wrong.
Whining loudly, you punched the mattress underneath you.
"Stupid hormones driving me crazy. And my stupid fingers can't get around this huge belly." You complained as you looked down at the mound that stuck out through the blanket.
Not able to keep himself from smiling, Yunho's hand rested itself on your covered belly.
"It's cute though." He assured you.
Looking up at him, you bit your lip before asking him.
"Yunho.....could you please just......you know..?" You don't know why but you felt shy asking him about it especially given that you were pregnant by him nonetheless.
Yunho looked hesitant. He had fears about being intimate with you in your state, but he also felt bad that you had to go through this. Sighing softly, he scratched the back of your head.
"On our next visit, let's ask the doctor about if it's safe or not? Ok?"
Expecting your pouty face, Yunho pulled the covers off you, swallowing hard when he saw your beautiful, round pregnant body on display for him.
"But for now, are you ok with me using my fingers?"
❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"
Looking down at the pot filled with who knows what that Yeosang stirred which was bubbling rather oddly, your best bet was that he definitely didn't. The reddened cheeks that formed on his face was another telltale sign.
"Trust me honey. I got this."
Right as he said that, some of the contents spilled out, nearly burning the both of you. Luckily Yeosang draped an arm protectively around your barely noticeable bump and moved you back so neither of you were harmed. Instead, the floor became the victim. Having enough shenanigans from your caring lover, you reached over and quickly shut off the stove before anymore accidents happened.
"There goes my chances of wooing you over with my cooking skills." He snorted softly, but he felt bad that he couldn't even make a simple meal for you.
Wanting to cheer him up, you hugged his waist, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.
"You've already won my heart over Mr. Kang, there's nothing left for you to claim."
Although he felt comforted by your words, there was something else he needed to hear.
"You know how I feel. Now go on... say my name." He commanded you.
Pecking his lips, you gave in. "Yeosang."
You let out a squeak when he pressed you against the counter, pulling you into a deeper kiss that was getting more and more heated. Your moment was interrupted when someone suddenly came into the scene, startling you both.
"Oh God Damian! You scared me man." Yeosang let out a relieved sigh when he saw it was only his trusted butler.
"Rest assured sir, I saw nothing and heard nothing." He smirked at them.
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
You grunted as you stripped yourself out of your shirt, the material feeling too confining and making your breasts feel more sore than they already felt. Standing in front of the mirror, you noticed how your breasts were practically popping out of the top of your bra.
"Sannie! Could you come help me out?" You called out to him.
"Yes my lovely baby mama?" He poked his head into the room, always ready to help you out if you needed it.
"Could you please unhook my bra, I can't reach."
Happy to help you, he came up behind you, eyes focused as he began undoing all of the hooks.
"Are they hurting you baby?" Looking up at the mirror, he saw your pouty face nodding at him.
"Would you like me to massage them for you?" He offered.
"Please." You begged, loving how gentle his hands were whenever he touched them.
Releasing your breasts out of their tight confinement, both you and San were in shock when tiny droplets of liquid gushed out of your nipples.
"Holy shit Y/N, are you already lactating?"
San stared at your breasts in amazement. Keeping his eyes focused on the mirror in front of you guys, his hands came up to gently squeeze your breasts, that tiny action making more milky substance to come out of you. You saw how San licked his lips and it gave you an idea. Tilting your head, you gave him a kiss on his jaw before telling him:
"Wanna suck on them?"
San looked shocked at your suggestion, but then he returned you around and pressed his face against your chest.
"Fuck yeah."
Not even thinking twice, San took one of your tits into his mouth, humming in pleasure as he sucked some of your milk into his mouth.
"We should make this a regular occurrence."
❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
Mingi released soft and blissful sighs as he felt your body move on top of him. His hands held onto your hips, helping you set a slow and sensual pace as you grinded against his dick.
"You feeling good baby?" He asked, making sure you weren't uncomfortable or in pain.
Your only response was your head being thrown back as you spewed out moans from your throat. It seemed the pregnancy heightened your sensitivity, so every move against Mingi's pelvis felt absolutely amazing, especially when he reached a hand over to rub at your clit. He always made sure you felt as much pleasure as possible.
"That's it, there you go babygirl." Mingi himself was enjoying the change in your sex life. Ever since you both found out you were pregnant, you had to halt your rather kinky and intense fucking sessions and replaced them with more soft and romantic love making. Which neither of you minded, it felt much more intimate and helped you both bond even closer to each other.
"Are you close my little lady? I can feel you squeeze tighter around my cock."
Although you were indeed close, you didn't want to cum just yet, not without asking you something first.
"Mingi......please....spank my ass." You turned your head so you could partially see his face from behind you.
Mingi blinked slowly at your request, unsure of what to do. Wanting to please you, he took one hand off your hip and used it to lightly spank the top of your ass. Although it was a rather tame slap, it was enough for you to start cumming on top of him. Mingi of course held you up, continuing to bury his cock inside you, sliding in and out so he could help make your high last longer til eventually he himself was cumming up into you. Making sure both of you were satisfied, he pulled you off him so he could clean you up.
"So I see you still become a mess when someone spanks you." He teased you, moving some hair out of your face so he could properly kiss you.
"Hey, I'm still your little brat even if I'm carrying our soon to be brat."
❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
Wooyoung slid the tip of his cock against your folds. Although he was anxious to be inside you once again, he had to make sure you were all right and not uncomfortable in any shape or form.
"You sure about this baby? We could try something else if you'd like." He assured you, one hand coming down to gently press against your pregnant belly.
"I'm fine Wooyoung. I just wanna feel your cock inside me again. It's been too long and I need it." You whined out, desperate to get some sort of release through something that wasn't from Wooyoung's tongue or fingers, although they always left you satisfied.
Wooyoung was extremely careful and slow as he plunged himself into you from behind, both of you moaning out loud when were connected once again after a long time. Pulling out once more, Wooyoung made sure to go easy on you, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your hips and ass as he moved to and fro with leisurely yet deep strokes into you.
"Fuck! You feel so good!" You couldn't help but exclaim as you felt every vein and ridge of his dick hitting deep inside your tight walls.
"You missed this didn't you babygirl? Missed being my little toy?" He couldn't hide the smirk on his face as he went slightly harder against her but not so much. Reaching one hand over, his fingers rubbed at her clit, knowing it would drive her crazy.
"Y-yes! I missed this." You gasped out, unable to think about anything except Wooyoung's dick inside you.
"You dirty girl, even after I get you all knocked up, you still want to get fucked by me."
Rubbing his fingers faster against your clit, his other hand held onto your hip so he could angle himself to hit against your g-spot, brushing his tip over and over again on it so he could send you cumming all over him.
"But that's ok, I'll make sure to fuck another baby into you if that's what you want."
❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
Opening your eyes, you smiled shyly as you woke up to your husband's face sleeping soundly next to you, one of his buff and strong arms was thrown over your body, laying protectively on your bump. Gently prying his hand off you without disturbing him, you quietly got out of the bed and walked out into the balcony of your hotel room, not bothering to cover up your naked body with a robe or anything.
You felt free, truly free as you gazed out at the beautiful scenery of the beach in front of you, a quick getaway place you and Jongho chose as your honeymoon destination after you both literally eloped not even 2 days ago. You wondered what were your parents and former fiancee thinking now, no doubt they were probably looking all over for you or were barely finding out the secret you two had kept for so long.
But you couldn't bring yourself to care. You didn't regret anything, if anything you would have regretted everything if you hadn't escaped with Jongho, whom you hadn't noticed had woken up until you felt his hands on your hips.
"Look at you little vixen coming out here wearing absolutely nothing. What? Did you want anyone passing by to see you standing here all nude?" His tone let you know he wasn't mad, he was simply poking fun at you.
"Hmmm maybe? Would it make you jealous to know someone who isn't you saw me like this?" You joked back at him, pushing your ass back onto him, a grin on your face when you felt his dick poke at your hip, letting you know that he too came out with no clothes on.
"On the contrary my little vixen, you wanted to give them a show?" You bit your lip when he began kissing your shoulder and neck, aligning himself at your entrance.
"I'll make sure we both give them a show."
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fluff#ateez smut#ateez dilf au#dilf!ateez#ateez fanfiction#ateez fanfic#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho
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Oh wow you guys, almost 600 followers? I am confusion, but I appreciate all of you more than you’ll ever know! You guys are what keeps me inspired and going and to show my gratitude, I’m here to (hopefully) give you everything you’ve all been asking for
Well This is Still Awkward
Part 1
You were still frozen to your seat, unable to comprehend, much less control your legs. Denial was a son of a bitch and surely if you sat completely still and stared blankly into nothing, your girlfriends would come walking through and embrace you as if nothing happened... right?
You couldn’t hide away in denial forever, not when you could hear Daniela wailing from behind the thick door of Alcina’s office. Not when you could hear Cassandra’s voice raising, only to be silenced by an even louder one. Not when you could hear Bela pleading with her mother not to do this... they were losing the argument. You couldn’t help but to start trembling in your chair at the prospect of being stolen.
Lady Dimitrescu had said that she would return to fill you in on what was to happen now and that almost sounded like a threat to you despite her assurances that no harm would befall you. If this woman could hurt her daughters like this... How could she possibly care what you had thought or felt about the issue? You swallowed, unsure if you were up to every demand the Lady might have for you, and you had the distinct feeling that any objections from you would only make your life harder.
The door to her study opened with a groan, and you stiffened when the Lady herself ducked through the doorway, already finished with dealing with her daughters. You practically felt like a deer caught in the headlights when she straightened and her gaze settled on you, and the fond smile did nothing to calm your racing heartbeat. Her eyes dropped to look at your chest as a result, and you gulped as you watched them darken.
“I am terribly sorry if I kept you waiting for too long, my dear.” said the Lady, and if you looked closer, you could see the exhaustion that showed just how truly tiresome her daughters’ arguments had been.
You opened your mouth, ready to argue yet again, but something flickered across her eyes that had common sense screaming at you to snap it closed and ignore the way your teeth clacked together. The satisfied smile on her face showed she approved of your quick learning, and you couldn’t help but to frown, already understanding the difference in your relationship with the Lady and the relationship you had with Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. She didn’t bother returning to her desk, instead choosing to tower over your seated form.
“Are you hungry, dear?” asked the Lady, her eyes surprisingly kind as she looked down on you, and that was worse... it had you diverting your gaze.
“Cassandra fed me,” You replied almost petulantly, and if she caught your attitude, she chose to ignore it.
“Oh that is even better, that means we can get straight to it,” said the Lady, unaffected by your tone. “Follow me, please.”
“Yes, my Lady,” You said monotonously, denial and bargaining giving way to just straight numbness.
You moved to stand, your head already ducked down, but a hand was quick to grab your shoulder. It wasn’t a violent grip, but the firmness of it told you to hold still and give your attention, and when you did, you could see the pinch between her brow as she frowned at you.
“Please, call me Alcina,” she insisted rather earnestly, and it had some sort of tension resolving inside of you. “You may call me so anytime you choose.”
“Thank you, Alcina,” You said, her name drawling off your tongue for the second time as you were quick to remember your manners.
“Now,” said Alcina, clapping her hands in what you could call a “chop chop” fashion. “Shall we continue with the day?”
“Yes, Alcina,” You nodded, and her smile brightened and it had your rigid shoulders marginally relaxing.
“Right this way then, dear,” guided Alcina, her hand returning to your shoulder, but gentler this time as she ushered you forward and out of the office.
As you passed through the threshold, the paralyzing thought struck you that you would run into Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela at some point, and you honestly couldn’t decide if you wanted it to happen sooner or later. Everything had happened so fast it was hard to believe that just that morning, you were waking up with Daniela pressed against your body. Less than an hour ago, you were eating and throwing playful banter at Cassandra before she was going to take you into town! Why did this feel like goodbye?
You felt your breath hitch as apprehension gnawed in between your rib cage, leaving you breathless and unable to focus on reality around you let alone formulate words. Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you were having a heart attack. But the way your stomach felt too large to be contained in your small frame and the way dots littered your vision, and the way you needed to get the hell out of here, you knew you were possibly headed towards a full blown panic attack.
“Where are we going?” You could barely hear yourself you were diving so far into your own head.
There must have been a tremble in your voice, or maybe it was the way it sounded so disconnected from you, but Alcina turned her concerned gaze on you and the hand on your shoulder cupped your cheek. You two had come to a stop right in the middle of the hallway, and you still felt too exposed. While you ached for your girlfriends, you couldn’t possibly look at them as you gave into their mother’s whim.
“I am just taking you to my quarters, do you think you can make it there?” pressed Alcina, watching you like a hawk, and you swallowed and nodded quickly, determined to shake off the panic that was intricately weaving itself inside of your chest, captivating every inch.
“Lead the way,” You said, giving a nervous laugh to mask the fact that your organs were so seized with anxiety that it had you nauseous.
“Are you alright?” Alcina couldn’t help but to question, and you nodded (her hand slipping from your cheek) giving her a rather halfhearted smile.
“Oh, yes, I’m fine, just ready to hear my duties,” You insisted almost desperately, unwilling to speak lest tears fill your eyes at the mere mention of the root of your problem.
And yet again her brows furrowed as concern shone in her eyes as well as a little exasperation. If you didn’t know any better, you could swear that she was on the verge of pouting, but she refrained as she brought her hand to your shoulder. You refused to acknowledge the way your muscles relaxed underneath the small, deliberate circles she began drawing there. Instead, you focused on the crick that was about to form in your neck if you were to continue staring up.
“I would hope that with time, you don’t see this as a duty.” implored Alcina, and all you could do was finally turn away to look at your feet, but you gave a single nod. “I meant it when I said I see something special in you.”
There it was again, an insinuation of something special... It was beyond you what she had meant by it, but you found whatever “it” was to be a nuisance seeing as it got you into this mess. You weren’t even sure what your new relationship with the Lady was exactly, so you supposed it would be in your favor to just smile and nod along rather than argue. It certainly didn’t do her own daughters any good. But there was just one question that refused to be held back behind your teeth. So you craned your neck one more time and let it free.
“What exactly is it that you want from me?”
Rather than look offended or angered by your question, Alcina adopted a thoughtful expression as she dove deep into her own head to pick the right answer. She gnawed on her bottom lip nervously and you couldn’t help but to be thrown by how human it had made her look. Her eyes met yours and you found that you couldn’t take the intensity behind them.
“I want you to love me,” Alcina whispered oh so courageously, and you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and let your head hang.
I already love three Dimitrescus.
You were smart enough to keep that to yourself, and you turned towards the direction of her room, showing your willingness to comply still, and while it wasn’t quite a display of affection or approval of her words, it wasn’t the outright rejection that swelled and expanded in your chest, ready to burst forth, but too afraid to take shape. So you decided to continue on day by day, step by step, minute by minute. Who knew how things were to play out.
You took a single step forward before turning back over your shoulder to give Alcina a look as if to say “Are you coming?”, and you felt warm when she wore a fond smile in return, directed solely at you. She straightened her posture, determined to put the moment behind you as she continued on as if she didn’t just say what she said, and you were all too willing to let her.
Her hand was glued to your shoulder the entire rest of the way to her bedroom, and only dropped it to open up the door and guide you through before ducking low to allow herself entrance. It was warm, the hearth in full blaze as you stepped deeper into her room. The door closed behind Alcina with a small click, and it had the knots of anxiety returning to your gut. You knew she claimed to have wanted your heart, but that also entailed your body, and it had your frame wracked with tremors.
“Please, you may take a seat,” insisted Alcina, and you automatically plopped down into the large chair with your back facing the fireplace.
“Yes, my-”
Alcina clicked her tongue, and you quickly bit yours, catching your reflexive mistake. Your face burned.
“I did not mean it as a demand, and from this moment forward, nothing is meant as such unless I say otherwise.” said Alcina, taking a seat in the chair opposite of you.
“Then what are my duties?” You questioned, your brow furrowing at having it that easy. “Surely there is more that I am meant to do for you around here.”
“There is nothing that I necessarily need from you as far as house duties are concerned seeing as I have maids for that purpose.” said Alcina, pursing her lips, and a streak of boldness had you daring.
“Then what makes me yours?”
The way her eyes flashed dangerously had you paralyzed in your seat, and it didn’t help when she slowly raised herself up from her own chair, and without even taking a step forward, she bent over, both of her hands landing on either side of you, gripping tightly at the arms of the chair. She was so close that you could smell the overwhelming scent of smoke coupled with the hint of perfume that attempted to make itself known. At that proximity, you could see every line on her face, from the ones surrounding her smirk, to the ones crinkling at the edges of her eyes... and that didn’t even include the stretch marks that threatened to disappear below the plunging neckline of her dress.
“That would be this, darling.” drawled Alcina, and before you could protest, her face was buried into the crook of your neck.
And then she bit down hard. It was so piercing that it drew enough blood to dribble down your throat, but it was obvious that you didn’t have to concern yourself with the cleanup, not when there was a wet tongue that went hand in hand with the teeth buried into your flesh. Your eyes hurt from how wide they had grown, and your mouth was open in a silent scream. One of her hands had come up to grasp the whole opposite side of your neck, locking in you and any sound you thought to make. Your hands flew up to push at Alcina’s shoulders, yet she didn’t budge, too focused on her mission... of what? Marking you? Showing how interested she was in power play? Was this possibly even for her daughters?
You eventually gave up on your weak attempts at deflecting her, and your hands fell limply into your lap, and she hummed her approval into your neck before she withdrew enough to flatten her tongue against your neck and giving a single long, slow lick, and she granted you the sight of her leaning back and savoring the taste of your blood on her mouth. You felt dizzy.
“My, my,” whispered Alcina, going as far as to lick her lips clean. “You are the delicacy that I always imagined you to be.”
How long have you thought about this?
You didn’t have to look into a mirror to know that your throat was bruised. From the dull throbbing, you practically felt marked. And there was Alcina’s endgame it seemed, and it left you with a sickness in your stomach as you thought of the looks that would surely cross Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela’s eyes when they caught sight of the claim. You were betraying them, and right before their faces with their own mother no less! How could you possibly get yourself out of this family affair?
“Did you have any more questions?” drawled Alcina, finally sitting back into her own chair, and her smirk was setting you on edge. “I am always happy to answer appropriately.”
I don’t have the time, and you don’t have the patience.
You simply smiled albeit tightly, and asked, “What happens now?”
She was leaned all the way back into her chair, her elbows resting on the arms before she was hooking her fingers together, her index fingers gently tapping almost thoughtfully. Her eyes remained on you, they always did, and they almost always seemed predatory, like she was several steps ahead of you and you didn’t even realize it. What possibly had you so different that you were capable of captivating an entire family of cannibalistic women? Finally, her mouth opened to speak.
“You are by all means, mine, and the only demand that I have for you is that you know this fact.” said Alcina, and you knew to take her very seriously.
“I can assure you, that is something I can’t forget.” You promised almost sarcastically, but you knew to tame the sharpness of your tongue, lest it get you into trouble. “But what do you want me to physically do for you?”
The sudden touch of wickedness to her grin had you blanching at the way her mind went with it, and it was you who threw it out there no less. The ache was returning to your stomach, and you sincerely hoped that your face wasn’t expressing everything your mouth was wanting to. If she was picking up on your hesitance, then she made no indication of it other than smoothing out her smirk and lifting her chin.
“There will be time for physicality later, my dear,” she swore, and you shivered beneath her gaze. “But for now, I want to know everything about you.”
“You want to... talk? About me?” You were suddenly full to the brim and bubbling over with questions it seemed.
Alcina’s eyes softened as she detected the incredulity in your tone at the mere thought of having a full blown discussion surrounding you of all things. If she picked it apart any deeper, she’d sense the insecurity underlining your voice as well, but that was for a different time you supposed. You weren’t even sure if you could string together a conversation long enough to last more than a couple minutes if it consisted of nothing but yourself. The Dimitrescus were the ones with insinuations of something “special” or something “more”, not you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think so.
“Yes,” started Alcina softly, her lips barely moving. “I want you to share what makes you... well, you,”
“What if there’s nothing to say?” You finally choked out, your brow pinching with worry. “What if you all find out that I’m not really as interesting as you think.”
With how quick you hung your head to hide your eyes, you missed her frown in response. But you did manage to catch her hand reaching to curl around your own, and you decided to relish in the surprising comfort it gave you rather than fight it. But once a hint of the thought flickered across your mind, it wasn’t long before you were comparing the way her hand enveloped yours rather than linking and fitting like a puzzle piece that was meant to be connected.
Like Bela’s.
Like Cassandra’s.
Like Daniela’s.
Your eyes squeezed tightly shut, but just as a single tear betrayed you by spilling from your eyelid and dripping down your cheek, the hand not holding yours cupped your chin and tilted your head up until all of your emotion was on display for her.
“You could never bore me, if that is what you are afraid of,” assured Alcina, looking you squarely in the eye to convey as much meaning as she could, and you couldn’t help the warmth flooding your chest.
“Well, this place has been such a big part of me that I can hardly remember who I used to be before.” You said rather meekly, ashamed that you couldn’t separate yourself from anything Dimitrescu anymore.
“Oh, my love, we have all the time in the world to help you remember.” Alcina cooed, now cupping both of your cheeks and you could’ve sworn you saw a glint of affection swirling in her eyes.
If your lower lip trembled, she made no comment of it as her eyes flickered to your mouth before glancing to the side and pulling away altogether. Her back was straightened once again and her hands were in her lap as she regarded you with a look you couldn’t decipher. Your only option was to sit and wait until she gave you some insight into what was playing through her mind. Fortunately, it didn’t take all evening.
“You miss my daughters.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement of fact that she couldn’t ignore any longer.
“Very much so,” you pressed almost desperately, and you couldn’t understand the ache surrounding your heart when her shoulders slumped. “I was very happy with the three of them.”
“They are endearing girls, I love them equally for all of their charming behaviors.” Alcina agreed, and the smile that curled the corners of her mouth so easily had you knowing that her admittance wasn’t even begrudging. “I can see why you fell for the three of them.”
You could hear the drawl on the one word and knew exactly for what she was getting at, and you blushed a deep scarlet. Maybe it did seem weird from the outside looking in, but the relationship you had with her daughters gave you a relief that was astronomical. You had never known peace nor acceptance as you did basking in their light, and you were afraid it was flickering out.
“I love them,” You forced out, voice tight enough to get stuck in your throat. The mark pulsed when you swallowed.
You knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was what you needed to say, and you couldn’t afford to pick apart and figure out the way your heart seized once hurt clouded her expression because of you. Instead, you chose to focus on how hurt her daughters had been, weeping in the hall for your relationship. You needed to see them.
“As they love you, I have been informed,” muttered Alcina, almost petulantly as she recalled her previous argument with her daughters. “They were capable of seeing something more to you than the other livestock that supports our winery as well.”
Everything about the Dimitrescus puzzled you, and it always left you scratching your head when you attempted to figure out what was so captivating about you, when it was clearly every single one of them that were so special. The power hidden beneath their skin and coursing through their veins was something to behold, and when they transformed into hoards of insects before you, you couldn’t resist catching onto the few not quick enough to get away, and the exceptional part was that you could distinguish who the insect was a part of.
You knew everything about Bela and how weighed down her shoulders were from taking on the world for her family. You understood Cassandra and her unwillingness to admit that she required a special kind of attention that she secretly felt neglected of. You basked in and guarded the comfort that came with Daniela’s almost childlike naivety. Your love for every one of them was obvious.
“In the end, someone is going to get hurt,” You deduced, pointing out the obvious. No matter how the story ended, love was going to hurt one, if not all of the Dimitrescus.
“If you are to take just one thing from this, do know that life is always here to test us if nothing else.” Alcina noted dryly as she reached for something on her side table before she hoisted herself from her chair.
She was putting some distance between the two of you and it was something you were grateful for. The clicking of her heels indicated where she was headed to, and you were aware of her presence with sense of sound alone. You didn’t have to glance over to know that she was hovering in front of the fireplace, her glassy eyes barely absorbing the dancing flames. The sharp, distinct clink of her lighter flicking open caught your attention before it snapped close with a clunk, and you sat rigidly in your seat, hands clasped tightly in your lap as Alcina audibly exhaled a puff of smoke. You waited patiently, but her following silence pushed you to wrack your brain for what you thought she might be waiting to hear.
“Does heartbreak feel worse when you have forever to hurt?” You whispered, wanting insight into Alcina, but also extremely timid to take the one step that was too far.
You finally craned your neck to glance over your shoulder and towards the hearth where she stood. The muscles in her back were so rigid they were stuck in knots that you could practically see from where you sat. Smoke billowed in the air before Alcina with every exhale, and that was the only sign that she was breathing at all, and you couldn’t help the guilt that began gnawing on the bones in your chest. You came into the castle and wrecked the family from within, and all you had to do was be yourself. You were getting so wrapped up in your own mind that you had to quickly zero back in on Alcina’s response before it missed you entirely.
“Forever is a long time to dwell, and contrary to belief, time hardly heals when the mind keeps it fresh.” sighed Alcina, her shoulders finally slumping forward beneath the weight she was carrying. “No matter how hard you push heartache to the back of your mind...”
“You have all the time in the world to circle back to it,” You finished for her, your eyes falling to the floor as you felt too unworthy to even glance in her direction. “I’m so-”
“There is nothing that your consolation nor your pity can do for me.” Alcina spat, and your teeth snapped shut with an audible clack as you bit back anything else that you thought to say. “Actions have always spoke louder than words, my dear, now what have you got to show me.”
You know what she’s wanting from you, she’s already said it, but matters of the heart couldn’t be forced, no matter if death was the only other option. As Alcina had basically just said, you could play the part of her lovesick puppy with words of false promise all day, but when the night fell along with your reservations, it wouldn’t be love that laced your touch. However, that didn’t stop your heart from yearning for this woman’s happiness. She deserved to feel the wholehearted acceptance of pure love, but was that really your job to take care of?
“I don’t want to hurt you,” You promised, your brows creasing with concern as you tried to convey how earnest you were with your eyes alone.
And how funny the situation was now, how the tables have turned... Now, here you sat with the ability to destroy the nearly invincible woman before you, and you could do it with mere words alone in a way that a sword, gun, or dagger never could. You felt sick at the power, and what were you to do? Alcina had made it perfectly clear to you as well as her daughters where she stood on stealing you away — your hand subconsciously rubbed the mark on your throat — but here you were to watch the aftermath as time helped realization to dawn on her. The extent of her feelings were true and legitimate, but she also showed a callousness that cut her daughters deep, and you think she was questioning if it was all worth it. Your mind drifted back to something she had said.
Time hardly heals when the mind keeps it fresh.
It would hurt Alcina to live the rest of your lifetime watching you spend it happily with her daughters, just as much as it would hurt Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela to lose you to their mother. It was hard to wrap your mind around; it was nearly laughable it was that ridiculous, but it was your life now, and it didn’t exactly feel like it was in your hands.
“Then don’t,” said Alcina, and you honestly couldn’t tell if it was an order or if it was a plea, but it added the pressure all the same.
“Will you ever let me see them again?” You asked, almost legitimately afraid that she would hide you away from her daughters forever.
“You would still be in the castle, would you not?” countered Alcina, arching a brow as she gracefully returned to her seat, placing her tobacco pipe back onto the side table.
“What do I do?”
When Bela cries to me... When Cassandra persuades me... When Daniela begs me... When I want to give in...
“You listen to me,” said Alcina simply, emphasizing her nonchalance with a shrug. “When you feel like it’s all becoming too much, just listen to me when I say I love you.”
But does love give you possession?
Alcina was walking the fine line between love and obsession, and it was all you could do to keep her swayed from the “obsession” side of the scale. You found that you only liked it when Daniela showed her obsession over you, and you didn’t have the mental capacity to juggle two sanity-impaired Dimitrescus. Daniela.
You cleared your throat in a futile attempt to dislodge the lump that formed there, and you briefly wondered if it was your entire argument that was stuck, choking you and itself down. Alcina had an answer for every one of your questions, and while it was a bit irksome, you also felt the fight leaving your body and leaving you slumped. Reality was finally sinking in that you weren't going to be able to talk your way out of the situation now, and you cursed the false hope that had bloomed in your chest. Now it was just prickling your lungs like thorns and it was difficult to breathe past.
"I wish you were happy... with me." Alcina faltered, sighing heavily, and the sound alone was like a punch to the gut. "And I think you could be with time."
But I want to be happy now. And I was.
"Where are your daughters?" You croaked, emotion finally getting the best of you, and if you were cracked anymore, you were surely to break into pieces.
"Wherever they want to be," Alcina answered rather aloofly, and while your brain was aware enough to detect the icy tone underlying, you also found that you were shutting down and not caring about actions and consequences.
"I need to see them, right now," You pleaded, and something told you to protest against her already opening mouth. "Please!"
The desperation came off of you in waves, and maybe it did smell kind of pathetic, but sometimes happiness comes from saying, "fuck it", and from the widening of Alcina's eyes, you could deduce that no mere mortal has had the courage to say it before you. And you almost wished to take it right back, to eat up the words and keep them as your burden when the hurt was so evident and clear in the Lady's eyes at your urgent demeanor. What cut you even deeper was when you caught the exact moment the pain masked itself with anger, and you suddenly understood her that much more.
Alcina was a woman who knew how to give, you've seen as much when she interacted with her daughters. She would give the moon and wouldn't hesitate to give the stars as well if that wasn't enough. She gave her time and her patience to the Dimitrescu winery that supported the castle and their status, and you knew it wasn't for her benefit alone. Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela had become Alcina's drive, and it was possible that she had grown exhausted of giving up everything she had to them once it came to giving up her heart.
Alcina was a woman who knew how to take as well. She took opportunities for what they were, and she was crafty at taking what she wanted, but she also unfortunately took a lot of shit. She accepted it with a tight smile from Mother Miranda and every time, the smile felt too wrong to be marring her face. She took the "family" dynamic between the four houses with a grain of salt, though that wasn't to say she was above petulance when she was hidden alone in her bedroom with her notebook. All in all, she was a woman of give and take, and somehow, you had wiggled your way like a parasite through her hard exterior, and she was now a woman allowing herself to put her own happiness first. You could respect that in itself. But now you’re ruining it.
“They really are very special girls,” repeated Alcina, her fingers tapping orderly on the arm of her chair as her eyes narrowed. “I understand how hard it must be to stop loving them.”
“And I won’t!” You clapped back without too much thought to the volume of your voice. “We had plans today! And tomorrow! And after that! This hurts me!”
Alcina’s face was stoic as she refused to emotionally acknowledge your words. She was eyeing you like she was questioning what her next approach should be, and she wasn’t willing to share until she had the upper hand. But you also suspected that she needed time to compose herself once more before she could try to reply. Alcina was more complex than some could fathom or even handle, and you almost wished she had gotten to you first, but you couldn’t deny that your heart was pulling in three different directions already and you loved it. But you also couldn’t deny the impulsive urge to hold and comfort the woman before you who was breaking silently inside.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone!” You exclaimed louder than you’ve ever been, all energy gone, released into a single sob.
Your shoulders slumped and your head hung as tears filled your eyes before spilling over down your cheeks. The weight was finally overwhelming, and you were crumbling beneath the pressure pushing you down. There was no thought to anything aside from Bela, Cassandra, Daniela, and Alcina crying for you and lost love, and it left your chest so achey that it scared you. Was there really a gaping hole there or did it just feel that way? You were drowning in your own sorrows so much that you didn’t notice three different insects squeezing beneath the crack under the door, nor did you notice Alcina place a comforting hand on your knee. Only when you felt small legs crawling in your palm, up your neck (over Alcina’s mark) and into your hair did you reflexively jerk.
You knew not to swat at them however from experience with their insects, and you were able to discern that Bela was sending you comfort in your palm as she did when she held your hand. The insect on your neck was Cassandra and you knew that because she always buried her face into your neck when either of you needed comfort. Daniela was nestled in your hair seeing as she always loved running her fingers through it. Each offered their love in their own ways, and that’s what you loved about your relationship with all of them.
“Their care and protective instincts over you is astounding,” mused Alcina, watching the three insects latching onto you. “They have never... loved anyone this way.”
You smiled warmly down at Bela sitting still in your hand before you allowed yourself to hear the melancholy in Alcina’s voice and glance into her eyes. She looked absolutely pained, and your heart broke that you put that expression there. The walls she surrounded herself with only allowed her to grow attached to her daughters, and you want to throw up at the thought that she fell for you and you threw it right back in her face. You were so unworthy to even be in her castle let alone her presence.
“Neither have you,” you whispered, too drained to speak any louder now, but also afraid that if you did, the statement would be even more loaded than it was.
“And what to do about that, hm?” countered Alcina, putting the ball back into your court, and finding enjoyment in the way you squirmed.
Cassandra’s insect bit into your neck, just over the bite mark that was already there. She would always enjoy showing her dominance over you, and you were sure she had something to prove to her mother at the moment. Of all the sisters, Cassandra would be the most stubborn one to crack, so you didn’t know why you expected her to grant you to her mother so easily. Your fingers twitched as you held back the urge to scratch the little insect away from your flesh.
And Bela was there, circling your fingers in an attempt at possible affection. She was the sister you went to when you needed comfort and good old fashioned sympathy. She seemed like she always understood your pain, and she was good with words of love and consolation. The way her hand squeezes yours to convey her support had you missing it when it was gone.
And naturally Daniela refused to be pushed to the side and she was back to running through your hair, tickling your scalp, and while it was less enjoyable in her insect form, it was Daniela, and you would never refuse anything she asked of you. And most of the time, all she wanted was to be enveloped in all things you. So really, who were you to deny the both of you the comfort she was trying to give with making her presence known to you.
You couldn’t imagine your life without the dynamic you and the sisters had gotten comfortable with. There was plenty of trial and error to get to the security of where you were, but you wouldn’t have changed anything about it... just like you were having trouble letting it change now. So what were you doing entertaining Alcina? Better yet, what were you going to do now that you had her hooked?
“You deserve someone who loves you fully and completely... You don’t deserve to always be paranoid about your lover pining over your daughters.” You said gently, your eyes thoroughly sorry and pleading. “I don’t think I can love you the way that I want to see you be loved, not with Bela, Cass, and Dani always being there to think about.”
Something in Alcina’s eyes flickered when you spoke, and while you were deathly afraid of what her response would be, it didn’t prepare you for when she suddenly moved, quick as a flash, and one of her hands were on your shoulder and the other was tangling in your hair. You were too startled to recognize that her fingers brushed Daniela’s insect from your hair. A gasp barely had time to escape your lips before Alcina was capturing it with her own. Your eyes widened as you felt the force behind the kiss, the desperation, the love, but you also felt the fear locked within that she refused to let out, lest she come across as weak, but here it was, everything presented to you, and you had to close your eyes from your mind in a whirlwind. From the mixture of hard pressure and soft lips, it had you frozen with her hands on you, not accepting but not pushing away; entirely unsure.
Alcina’s door slammed open and while your nerves screamed at you to jump away from sensory overload, her grip tightened around you to keep you in place long enough for the new occupants of the room to get a clear view. And the familiar growl, gasp, and cry had you ill as you were finally released far enough to turn away and look into Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela’s eyes. Cassandra looked angry, but you could see the pain she was trying to mask. Bela looked betrayed and a little sick, and was unwilling to look at her mother, her eyes unswayed from you. Daniela had tears in her eyes as she looked between you and her mother, her eyes darting to your mouth, and then her chin wobbled when she saw her mother’s lipstick smeared across your lips. You opened your mouth, and after a moment of opening and closing it like a floundering fish and still failing to come up with anything appropriate to say to ease the tension, you sighed, eyes shut tightly as you refused to even look at the problems happening before you.
“Well... this is awkward,”
——
I’ll decide to end it there because I love to torture. I think I might be inspired to slowly add more to this over time
#bela dimitrescu#cassandra dimitrescu#daniela dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu's daughters#lady alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu’s daughters x reader#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#resident evil village#resident evil 8
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Imposter
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Summary: Adrien's mother is kind and sweet and loving. The only problem is that it isn't her at all.
Notes: This is based off on this post by @infinitysgrace and a post athat I can’t find anymore, but was about how Emilie’s eye color could be wrong in the wishmaker flashback because it wasn’t her, it was a sentimonster. I took some liberties with sentimonster lore because I’m not 100% sure about all that, but I think it turned out well.
One of Adrien’s earliest memories is of crying.
He was young, perhaps three or four, and his room was blurry through his tears. When he grew older, he would get used to his father’s insistence that a night light was coddling Adrien, but at the moment, all he knew was the darkness surrounding him. The room was too big and his bed was in the middle of it, the light from the huge windows playing shadows that tricked his eyes. So he started crying, hoping it would call his parent’s attention and that they would come to him.
(When he grew older, he would learn that crying was useless.)
He felt more than saw his mother coming in, leaving the door open in a crack of light. Her arms wrap around him and she hums soothingly, the sound filling up his chest. She’s warm and smells sweet, like her favorite lavender perfume. He sinks into her, tears drying and sobs reducing to whines. He has tired himself out with that and would probably fall asleep even if left alone, but his mother doesn’t leave. She tucks him in and stays as his eyes close.
The last thing he sees are her wide blue eyes.
-
Both his parents have drastic mood changes, but Adrien would say that his mother is the most prominent example of this. His father is usually just stoic and, if Adrien pushes him enough, gets annoyed with him. At worst, he’ll get angry and rage at Adrien, calmed down only by his mother’s calm words as she diverts his attention so Adrien can get away. His mother, though, always feels like whiplash.
“Why can’t I go with you?” Adrien, aged seven, asks his mother. He’s sitting on her bed as she packs her bag for another trip with his father. He stopped keeping count of them after the fifth.
“You’re too young, baby.” She said and even the pet name didn’t stop the sting from her dismissive tone. “Next time, okay?”
He bits back a ‘you said that last time, too’.
“But I’m already- “
“Adrien.” His mother chides, frowning. Her (disappointed) green eyes held him down. “I said you could stay here with me if you weren't going to be disruptive. Can’t you behave, just this once?”
He swallows back a lump in his throat. “I-I’m sorry, mother.”
But she already turned her back to him and packed the rest of her bag in silence. His mother leaves out her customary goodbye kiss when she leaves for the trip. He isn’t allowed downstairs to see them go and Nathalie insists it isn't a punishment, even though it feels like it. Adrien mopes in his room, not feeling up to enjoy his free day, no tutors or photoshoots, when all he can think about is his mother.
That’s why he’s taken back when she walks in his room.
“Mother?” He gaps, unable to hide his surprise. “I thought you left. Aren’t you going to miss your trip?!”
“I changed my mind, Adrien. Your father and I decided that the trip would be more productive with just him.” She said, eyes warm. Adrien always thought it was beautiful how her eyes could look blue or green, depending on the light.
“But why?” He asked. She had been so excited for the trip!
“To stay with my precious son, of course.” His mother said, taking him into her arms.
All his questions evaporated right then and there.
-
After their last trip, his parents decided to take a break from traveling. To network, his father informed him, which meant more boring family dinners and stiff ties. His mom always tuts when he complains about it, so he stays silent this time. At least it’s a dinner with Chloé, his best friend, and her family, so he and her are really only required to have dinner and then they can go off and play in the hotel rooms.
“Arnold- “ Mrs. Bourgeois starts during dinner, before being nervously corrected by her husband.
“It’s Adrien, dear.”
“Oh right, Adrien. You grew up really well, you look more like your mother everyday.” Other people say it gushing, followed by a ‘so cute’ and pinches to the cheek. Mrs. Bourgeois says it like it’s a fact she approves of; Chloé even copies the small nod her mother makes. “You have her eyes.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t think so.” He says as politely as he can, but everyone in the table still throws him confused glances.
“You don’t think you look like your mother?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow.
Adrien shook his head. “No, I just don’t think I have her eyes. Mother’s eyes are blue and green and mine are just green.”
The Bourgeois family looks at him like he grew a second head. His parents, however, become tense all of sudden.
“Emilie, Gabriel, I think your son might be colorblind.” Mrs. Bourgeois says dryly and Adrien waits for his parents to come to his defense. They don’t.
“Maybe. You know how children are.” His mother says, lightly. “I love your hat, Audrey. Is it new?”
The topic changes to Audrey’s new fashion exploits and Adrien and Chloé are finally allowed to go play.
(Nathalie takes him to an eye doctor Mr. Bourgeois recommended the next day. The colorblind tests come back as negative.)
-
At age eight, Adrien was already used to working on fashion shows for his father’s brand. It didn’t make them easier to go through, however.
It’s a summer one, this time, and his clothes are light and airy and his skin felt itchy and hot in the air conditioned cat walk. Looking at the bright lights around him hurt and the camera felt like it was looking uncomfortably deep into his soul. Was it too obvious that he wanted to run away? The crowd claps everytime he comes and everyone is smiling. Except for his father.
After the show, his father spends the rest of the ride in silence as his mother tries to defuse the heavy tension that permeated the air with small talk and gushing compliments about the clothes and Adrien’s performance. It falls flat as she hardly looks like she’s up for talking, dark shadows under her eyes and skin paler than usual. Whenever Adrien asks her if she’s sick, she denies. As soon as they arrive home, he drags Adrien from the car towards the house, grip strong on his left upper arm.
“Do you enjoy embarrassing me in front of everyone, Adrien?” His father asked calmly, but his hand tightened on his arm.
Adrien couldn’t speak. It felt like it was happening to someone else, his mind weirdly detached from the situation. The only thing stopping him from floating away was the pain in his arm.
“That’s enough, Gabriel.” He heard his mother, voice muffled. It felt like he was underwater in the pool and she was speaking from far away. Her hand, though, he felt acutely as she extricated his father’s hand from his arm. “Adrien, go, please.”
He runs away without second thought, only pausing guiltily at leaving his mother with his irate father when he starts hearing his father’s screaming. Adrien hides under the blankets in his room, heart racing long after the noise stops as he tries to focus his mind into anything else. He startles when he feels a hand touching his blanket cocoon.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby.” He hears his mother’s voice and frantically tears his blanket away.
Adrien relaxes as he looks into her wide blue eyes and comforting smile, trying to leap for a hug. She stops him.
“Let me see your arm first.” She says and he reluctantly takes off his jacket, wincing. The bruise on his arm doesn’t look pretty, so it’s for the best that he doesn’t go out much after fashion shows. “I can’t believe I let you get hurt.”
Her tone is soft and she looks, weirdly enough, genuinely confused as she touches the bruise on his arm and coos in apology as he flinches.
“Father is just stressed.” Adrien parrots back his mother’s usual spiel after his dad does something less than exemplary. “It’s just how she is, it’s okay.”
"It 's not okay.” His mother says right away. “I’m supposed to not let anything hurt you, Adrien.”
She says that with such a passion that he can believe she actually means it. But instead of the elation he expected when he heard it, all he felt was a surge of anger. Because why now? After all those moments when she scolded him for avoiding his father or not looking him in the eye, why now?
“There isn’t anything we can do about it, is there?.” He snaps, echoing her words to him from what felt like yesterday.
She deflated. “I’m sorry. There isn’t.”
-
His father went away from a trip again and his mother, once again, decided to stay.
Spending time with his mother during father’s trip was great, especially since she was in such a good mood and looking much healthier than she did these days. She lets him have an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert as soon as Nathalie turns her back on them, she spends the whole day playing with him in the garder, she helps with his homework and makes him a snack between classes. They play the piano together, making up different tunes and giggling.
“Don’t I have to practice this?” He asked, pointing to the sheets of the classical song he was supposed to learn.
His mother wrinkled her nose.
“You already work too hard, Adrien, it’s nice to have some fun once in a while.” She said, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She usually didn’t wear it when spending time with him, only when she spent time with father, so it caught his attention. “Besides, nobody has to know.”
They watch a movie he picked that night. His mother rarely did that and when she did, she was very picky about it. Artist stuff, he supposed. This time he got to choose, though, and he picked on based on a manga he liked, Astroboy. His mother seemed excited in the beginning, but her mood quickly subdued as the movie went on.
“Are you not liking it?” He whispered to her and she shook her head.
“I am, baby, don’t worry. Are you?”
“Yeah. It's not really like the manga, but I like it.” He said. “I just think it’s a little unfair, you know. How he doesn’t know he isn’t really the scientist’s son, that he’s just a robot.”
His mother’s arms tighten around him. “I don’t think it’s unfair.”
“Really?” Adrien watched as the images from the screen played on his mother’s blue eyes.
“Really.” She repeated. “Him knowing would be crueler.”
-
At age ten, Adrien is awakened on a rainy night by his mother shaking him.
It was the night his father was supposed to come back from a trip and he had spent a fun day with his mother, studying and playing (“You need both to be a healthy boy, Adrien!” She grinned at him and he beamed back at her). His mother had looked a little skittish earlier, looking over her shoulder often only to just find Natahalie and fidgeting with the ring on her hand, that she usually wore every time his father was traveling. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong and insisted she hadn’t been sick. Nevertheless, he worried.
“Mother, what’s wrong?” He asked, sleepiness fading away as he noticed how frantic she looked.
“Adrien, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Every moment I’ve been conscious, it’s been on my mind. Can you trust me?” She asked him, stroking his head with the hand that wore her wedding ring, and he nodded. “I need you to pack a small bag and come with me, okay? We’re going on a trip, just you and me.”
“A trip?” It was all he ever wanted, but the look in his mother’s blue eyes made him hesitate. “Is everything okay?”
“No, baby.” She said, kissing the top of his head. “But it will be. Hurry up, I need you to pack while I handle some things. Meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?”
With anyone else, even his father, he would have asked more questions. This was his beloved mother, though, so he just got up and started to pack his clothes and some of his stuff that he couldn’t do a few days without. He carefully closed his door, running down the stair and to his mother by the door. She looked damp, her outfit changed and an umbrella hanging by her feet along with some bags.
“Adrien?” She asked, turning her green eyes to him. In her left hand, she held her wedding ring.
“Mother? Are you okay?” He asked, noting how much paler and shakier she looked than when he saw her upstairs.
“Yes, of course.” His mother said as she put her wedding ring back on. “Whatever I said to you upstairs, forget it, okay?”
“W-what?”
“I didn’t know what I was saying.” She said, eyes staring straight at her ring. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. Go back to bed, baby. Your father is back earlier than expected and he won’t like to see you up so late. ”
He nodded, unwilling to argue, and took his bag back with him to his room. His mother suddenly acting weird and standoffish wasn’t anything new, it was fine. She would go back to being his sweet, kind mother soon enough. He was sure of it.
(She never did.)
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Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏
this really went off the fucking rails 😷
"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."
"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"
"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.
Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"
The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.
"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.
"The fuck did you just call her?"
"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."
"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.
"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.
"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.
"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.
"Excuse–"
"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?
—————
The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.
Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.
Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.
You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"
You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."
You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.
A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.
You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.
—————
Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.
However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.
When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.
He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.
Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.
"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.
"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."
The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.
"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.
"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"
"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"
"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.
"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"
"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.
You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."
"Don't give me that bullshit–"
A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.
"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"
"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.
"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.
"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.
The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"
You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.
Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.
You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.
"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.
"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.
He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.
"And those shorts?"
At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"
"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.
"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."
Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."
"So this was your grand idea?"
"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."
You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."
"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.
"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."
You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.
"Do you forgive me?"
"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"
You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.
"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."
"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.
"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."
It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.
"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."
He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.
You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"
"I think so," you shy. "I want to."
"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."
"For what?"
"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"
"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.
"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"
It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"
That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."
His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.
"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"
You are unconfident with your denial, "No."
"Look at me then."
It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?
His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.
"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.
"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.
He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."
"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.
"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."
Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.
"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.
"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."
You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.
"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.
"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"
#textbook love#jungkook drabble#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#bts fic#jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook#bts imagines#bts scenarios#bts smut#jungkook smut#jjk smut#jeon jungkook smut#networkbangtan#kpopnetwork
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caught in the middle (1); m. barzal
SYNOPSIS: For the sake of your friend’s wedding with Tito, you and Mat agree to maintain the facade of still being the happy couple everyone sees you as. But the act comes with its consequences, one more taxing than the other. WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 11.2k A/N: I am so excited for this because it contains some of the tropes I enjoy seeing in fics, and I was dying to also put out some new content as opposed to only reposting my old writing. I wish I wrote this when I was still decent at doing the thing, but I hope that this is still an enjoyable read that makes you look forward to the next part! Title is based off Alexander 23′s Caught in the Middle which is such a good song and I really recommend. Sections in italics represent flashbacks.
PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4
“We’re getting married!”
You gasped, bringing both hands to cover the lower half of your face as your jaw dropped at the announcement. It shouldn’t be so surprising – you would’ve bet even your most prized possession that this was bound to happen at some point eventually – but knowing this was actually now a sure thing sent a thrill through you. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and in place of it, your expression mirrored that of your best friend’s: the wide grin, the bright eyes and of course, the giggles of sheer excitement as soon as the news sunk in. Elise was glowing and next to her, Tito embodied the idea of what the world’s proudest man would look like.
“Oh my god!” you gasped, and Elise burst into laughter, not hesitating to jump out of her seat at the same time you did so that the two of you could embrace. Among your squeals and giggles, you could faintly make out the sound of hands being clapped, then caught sight of Mat and Tito hugging. Over Elise’s shoulder and over Tito’s, you and Mat exchanged smiles and you couldn’t help the chuckle that left your mouth as soon as he winked at you. “Congratulations!” you said as soon as you broke apart, though the two of you still held hands. Immediately, your gaze fell down to her hand where a ring now rested, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you hadn’t taken notice of it earlier. “Just—when? How? Where? Who else knows?”
“We don’t have a date or venue set yet, but we wanted you and Mat to be the first to know,” Elise informed you as soon as you took your seats again.
“We have a favour to ask from both of you,” Tito supplied. As soon as he said it, you felt Mat’s hand wrap around your own and the two of you exchanged a brief look during which he squeezed your hand gently, before diverting your attentions back to the soon-to-be newlyweds.
Newlyweds. The immensity of the word sent a discrete shiver down your spine.
“I can’t imagine asking this of anyone else: I want you to be my best man,” Tito directed at Mat.
“You shouldn’t even think of asking this of anyone else,” Mat responded immediately, and the two shook hands on it. You couldn’t help but think that if they weren’t as comfortable as they were now, they’d probably hug again, do their typical pats on the back or fist bump as they usually did, but Elise’s head now rested on Tito’s shoulder and Mat’s hand was so warm, so firm atop your own.
“Be my maid of honour, please?” Elise asked. “I can’t think of anyone more suitable than you and Mat as best man and maid of honour. We’ll return the favour of course,” she added playfully.
“I’ll hold you to that,” you warned without hesitating because after all, you had no reason to – and you knew Mat would agree with you.
Although the two of you hadn’t touched on the subject yet, there was an unvoiced knowledge shared between you that eventually, this would also be you. Eventually, Mat would ask you and your heart would grow and your soul would warm, and you would say yes. Yes, yes, yes.
As you all settled down to hear a replay of how Tito popped the question and Elise accepted the ring, Mat’s thumb began caressing the back of your hand. Though the gesture wasn’t a novelty, you couldn’t help but take notice of the way your heart fluttered each time he seemed to linger more on your ring finger. It wasn’t difficult to imagine a ring wrapped around it but neither of you were in a rush: you simply waited for the right time to take your relationship to a point in which it would become a forever thing, fully confident it wasn’t a question of ‘if’ but rather, ‘when’.
*
This was anything but the right time.
You frown as you cast a glance down at the phone resting on your lap, eyes narrowing a little at the name which brought the display to life for the second time in the space of less than a minute. You click the side button twice, silencing the vibrations of it and from your side, your colleague leans in to whisper to you.
“You can take it if it’s urgent. I’ll fill you in afterwards.”
“Thanks,” you whisper back. “I think it can wait until the meeting wraps up though.”
Luke gives you a well, if you’re sure look as he leaned back in his chair and you flash him a grateful smile.
Still, it is difficult for you to settle comfortably in your seat again and much to your chagrin, you find yourself crossing and uncrossing your legs as if the call had sent some sort of signal to your entire body kickstarting jitteriness you can honestly do without. Not long after you find some comfort and energy to draw yourself back to the present, your phone buzzes again – only once this time, indicating a message.
I’m waiting for you in the lobby.
Fuck, you curse inwardly, locking the phone in frustration. As quietly as you can, you gather your notebook and work tablet then lean in towards Luke who met you halfway. “Have to run but let me know if I miss anything important.”
“At the current rate, I wouldn’t count much on it but will do anyway,” he states as quietly as he can and the two of you exchange sly, conspiratorial smiles before you excuse yourself quickly and very quietly while making a swift exit.
Internally, a string of curses follow without a break in between, and you have to physically bite down on your lip out of sheer fear one might unconsciously slip out. If anyone would be in your shoes, though, they wouldn’t blame you for it. You are the type of person to stick closely to any plans and agreements made, so the fact that he just chose to turn up so unexpectedly doesn’t sit right with you. Not anymore, that is. Besides, you had both agreed to do this after your workday ended as opposed to midday and definitely not in this place. Now, you have to brace yourself for coping with a foul mood on top of whatever else the rest of the day would throw at you.
“You’ve got a visitor,” Rachel announces quietly in a sing-song voice from behind the reception desk as you approach. She doesn’t bother masking the giddiness in her tone and you struggle to work up as genuine of a smile as you can when she nods her head towards the waiting area.
“Thanks, Rach.”
“Bet he must be so happy your redeployment to the Baltimore offices was cut short so quickly,” she coos.
“Sure is. We’re still on for tonight?” you ask quickly in an attempt to drive attention away from the subject before she can try to lead into it too far for your own comfort at the moment.
Rachel’s smile falters a little, her expression somewhat quizzical. “Don’t you want to postpone so you could spend some time with him? You only just got back yesterday, after all.”
You swallow uncomfortably before shrugging. “We’ve got plenty of time to do that. So tonight, okay? I’ll catch you later.”
“Your call. See you then, Y/N!”
You only had just a split second to brace yourself for what is ahead of you, so you draw in a breath then slowly exhale it as discreetly as you can while cutting your way across the lobby. Since agreeing to this meeting, you prepared yourself as best as you could, imagining every single scenario and devising the appropriate plan for it: from the way you presented yourself to what you said, you had a mental plan for everything including a few backups just in case. The only thing you hadn’t factored in, apparently, was how little was under your control and you hated that. Each step you take made you feel less and less prepared for what is ahead, and the thought rattles you. If you were swift enough on your feet, you could just about make a quick turn and dip into the hallway leading to the visitor restrooms. All you need is just a few more seconds. A little alone time for you to run over your lines in your head.
Except—
Mat looks up at the same time you take a step sideways, ready to bolt towards temporary safety. His eyebrows rise a little as if surprised by the sight of you, but you refuse to appear outwardly deflated by the turn of events. Instead, you square your shoulders, tip your head back a little and arch an eyebrow. You can do this. You note he is dressed casually, and his hair is pushed back underneath a black cap.
Unless there was a change in schedule, Thursdays were scrimmage days.
Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as you recall that with so much ease. Then again, you basically built up a collection of information that was practically helpful or useful to exactly no one over the course of the past few years. It’ll probably take just as much or maybe more to replace that with something different, so you try cutting yourself some slack whenever you are willing to.
“I thought we agreed on five thirty,” you state coolly, pitching your voice at just the right tone to also express surprise.
Mat pushes up from the armchair, returning whatever magazine he’d picked up back on the nearby glass table. “Sorry, I tried calling earlier this morning to ask if we can reschedule but it went straight to voicemail.”
Oh. You mentally curse yourself for not charging your phone as soon as you made it home from the airport the previous night or bothering to check the voicemail message you’d been notified of once it did begin charging earlier this morning at your desk.
“They rescheduled the viewing of the new arena for this evening, and I was in the area, so I thought I’ll drop by just in case,” Mat continues, throwing a cursory glance around the place though to you, it seemed more like a way of having a break from the eye contact. You don’t complain; you welcome that.
You open your mouth, ready to berate his poor timing but even you could admit you carry some fault here too. Only a little. You bite down lightly on the tip of your tongue, before nodding towards the seats though you didn’t wait for Mat; you sit, deciding he could make up his own mind if he wanted to follow or not.
“How was Baltimore?” he asks after a few moments of awkward silence while settling in the same armchair he previously occupied.
“Mat,” you say, hoping it comes across as more of a warning than a plea. You can’t deal with small talk and a part of you thinks that’d make the entire deal even more difficult to go through with. He presses his lips together into a thin line and you take that as your sign to continue. “Elise told me she’d like us to be at the venue a day in advance of the rehearsal dinner if we can. I’ve already arranged my leave for that, so it’s not a problem for me. I’m planning on making my way there sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
“We can go together then. I can pick you up after work.”
“There’s no need—”
“Y/N.” The sharpness of his tone catches you off guard and you can swear Mat was equally surprised by that, though only for the briefest of moments. He slides forward a little in the seat almost as if he is more than ready to leave but Mat has never been one to back down so easily and you doubt any of that changed during the course of the past three months or so. “You were the one who insisted we go through with this and I’m trying. I really am, but you’re not giving me anything to work with. So please. Let’s just put everything to the side, do what we need to do and then it’s done.”
Done. Like it is a task, like it is something you needed to cross off a to-do list, scrunch it up then trash it.
The finality of the word is so heavy that it feels as if it had managed to knock out all the air in your lungs. You and Mat were running headfirst towards a fork in the road, and deep down you knew that was truly it. If until now the two of you have been dancing around each other, playing pretend as if you were kids living in a world of fantasy, you know that eventually, you have to let light shine on the truth: whatever lay ahead, you and Mat could no longer walk the same paths. It is just a matter of admitting it not only to yourselves, but also to the people you were lying to.
Lying for, you prefer.
Defeated, you slump in your own seat a little, legs crossing and fingers tapping lightly against the back of your notebook. “Be at my place by two. I’ll have everything that I need ready the night before so we won’t need to wait around.” A pause, and then, “how’s Tito?”
Mat lifts a shoulder in a casual shrug. “Excited. Nervous. It’s the only thing he talks about in the locker, outside of it, on ice and off ice. How’s Elise?”
“Same deal with her. I never knew there were so many shades of blue before, but I’ve been proven wrong before.”
A pause follows that could easily be attributed to the group of people rushing into the building and allowing noise from the street outside to filter in while the doors were kept open, but you can tell there is more to it than that if you are to go by the shift in Mat’s expression. His expression changes and you find you can’t quite read into it or guess what could be going on through his head. You try not to focus much on the little voice inside your mind that was bothered by it but find it takes a considerable amount of effort to do so. Force of habit, you conclude.
“You don’t say,” Mat finally responds. There is a hint of accusation in his tone. Or regret. Maybe both.
Your lips press together firmly, a light frown forming on your face but chose to let that slide. Not only is the lobby of your workplace the least suitable place to have an argument about the two of you, but you find that even those short moments of seeing Mat face to face months after you called it quits appears to take a toll on you. You feel tired, worn out and willing to be the first one to back down for once.
It is cruel irony that a big red neon EXIT sign is visible from the corner of your eye.
You release a quiet, long sigh then stand up from the seat. “Well, I guess we’re done here? I do have another meeting to prepare for, so…” You trail off, already backing away a few steps.
Mat opens his mouth as if ready to say something else but promptly presses his lips together, deciding against it. He gives a swift nod of his head then stands up. It’s then you notice the two Styrofoam cups in front of him and the neon EXIT sign imprinted in your mind starts flashing temptingly at you. Mat is a step ahead. He holds out one of the cups towards you and you are ready to tell him off for it, but he cut in.
“Thought I wouldn’t drop by empty handed.” When you don’t make a move to accept it, his eyes briefly peek behind you. “Rachel’s all eyes this way, by the way,” he informs you and a brief glance over your shoulder confirms Mat hasn’t been lying.
As soon as you turn to look towards the reception desk, Rachel grins, waves quickly at you then turns back to her computer screen. Begrudgingly, you accept the cup of coffee and force a tight smile.
“See you soon,” you say by way of greeting and didn’t wait to hear a response from Mat.
It isn’t until you scan your pass to cross the security barriers and make a turn out of sight that you take a sip from the drink and almost immediately wish you didn’t. It’s your order to a T. The two of you even brought a coffee machine that would let you replicate it on days when you didn’t feel like leaving the comforts of your apartment, especially days when Mat didn’t need to get up early for practices or scrimmages or evening games. It stayed with Mat when you left and the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, despite the gentle sweetness of the beverage.
Without thinking twice, you throw the cup in the nearest trash can.
*
As soon as your order is set on the table, you ignore the basket of fries and reach straight for your glass to take a long sip from the straw, letting out a content sigh as soon as you felt satiated enough.
“Long day,” you state in response to Rachel’s raised eyebrows but she seems to accept that by raising her own glass. You clink yours against hers, take a smaller sip then set it back down on the table. “What time do you think you’ll make it over to the hotel?”
“Well, I was thinking of trying to get there by midday on the day of the rehearsal dinner but it’s starting to look more like late afternoon. I’m…” She trails off, and you can just about pick up on her hesitation and the way her gaze shifts over to the side momentarily as if avoiding something or considering whether to continue that. You move in your seat, peeling your back away from the plush backrest to lean in a little closer.
“You’re…” you trail off, voice peaking just a little into a question in an attempt to prompt her to continue.
Rachel takes a deep breath in, shoulders visibly drooping and when she looked back at you, she did so with a look that could only reflect…shame? Embarrassment?
“Luke and I are sort of thinking of coming along together.” At the sight of your widened eyes, she quickly adds, “just as friends! We’re still working out through a few things and we’re taking it slow. As in, much, much slower than the first time around.”
“No way! That’s… Rach, that’s so good. I’m happy for you both, seriously.”
You find that you truly believed that, though it wasn’t a surprise to you. You had introduced Rachel to Luke while she visited you in Baltimore and at the time, he worked with you there also. Initially, you didn’t think much of it - you simply invited her to come along to a few after work drinks and the two kicked it off easily that night. Very easily apparently, because as the night started coming to an end, Rachel prompted you to go ahead without her. Ready to say you weren’t going to leave her own her own, you shortly found out exactly why: you watched with plenty of amusement and fascination as she and Luke climbed into a taxi together and whizzed off to his place, undoubtedly. That was pretty much their start and continuation. Her visits to Baltimore were more frequent and though you were seeing her often enough, it definitely wasn’t as much as Luke saw of her. And you were fine with that. They fit almost perfectly and it only took a few more meetings for them to label themselves as a couple.
Things began crumbling as soon as Luke had moved to the New York office just a few weeks before your own return. While he seemed fine with the idea of Rachel working in the same place, that wasn’t also her take on things.
“It’s weird,” she told you through the phone. “It just… It’s so weird. I’d be seeing him at my place or his and in the office? No thanks. That’s way too much for me, you know?”
It made sense, of course, and though you rooted for them, you didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. Yet, there was a tremble to her voice, a sort of uncertainty that made you think otherwise. It wasn’t that Rachel didn’t have any feelings for him - maybe she was simply shocked to see him walk through those glass doors one morning to pick up his brand new ID and claim what would soon become his permanent desk across from yours.
“Thanks,” she tells you, pulling you back into the present. “But like I said, slow and easy does it. We’ve been talking more and that makes a huge difference.”
“For sure. If communication isn’t the backbone of a relationship, I don’t know what is,” you agree and wasn’t that ironic? You’re hardly in the position of giving any relationship advice at all or saying what is good for one and what isn’t. Not anymore. Not when your own had fallen apart.
Rachel grins. “You’d know. You and Mat have been together for… how long now?”
You should’ve seen it coming a mile away. You swallow uncomfortably, take another sip of your drink and take a few fries just to buy yourself a little more time. “Maybe four years? Don’t really keep track of that anymore,” you said as casually as you could muster, lifting your shoulders in a shrug.
“I think I’d stop doing that eventually too at the rate you two are going. Honestly, I would’ve bet anything you would’ve been the first to tie the knot. Actually, thinking about it,” she says, clicking her fingers in recollection, “Elise said the same thing to me the other day when we caught up on the phone. She went—“
You don’t really register her words. There is a low ringing in your ears and an uncomfortable draft sweeps in the locale as the entrance door somewhere behind you is being kept open, no doubt a large group making their way in; it sends shivers down your body, but really, you are pretty sure you can’t only attribute them to a brief gust of wind. After all, your sweater is keeping you sufficiently cosy and warm. In front of you, Rachel continues praising your relationship with Mat, talking about how anyone took a look at you both and would say, whatever they have going, I want it too and you are trying so, so hard to block out as much as you can of it. You can stop her, of course; distract her with whatever random topic and you know she’d go with it but your jaw is locked in place, teeth clenched uncomfortably. You blame that and the way your nails dig into the palms of your hands on the sting behind your eyes and the sudden heaviness weighting down on your chest.
It isn’t so much the pain of your relationship ending that was rendering you in a state of daze, but the shame of what you and Mat agreed to do: pretend the two of you were still the happy couple Elise, Tito and everyone else thought of you as just to not spoil whatever luck they thought you’d be passing on to them by being their main witnesses. And then, once the event passes and they would return to New York from the honeymoon you and Mat would soon gift to them on their wedding day, you’d tell them the truth. Or part of it anyway. Definitely no mentions that the two of you were childish enough to play pretend; just a simple, clean break timed just perfectly with your request to be permanently redeployed elsewhere. Preferably, as far from New York City as possible so that you no longer have to walk the streets you once both did or yearn to once again visit that perfect pie place the two of you once dubbed your own.
“We’re not together anymore.”
The words stumble out of your mouth in a desperate now or never manner. Despite the anxiousness that came with the act, you find relief in it also. It feels freeing to be able to admit the truth to someone that isn’t only yourself though perhaps you should’ve thought of this more carefully: the idea of now needing to come fully clean to Rachel is somewhat daunting, mostly because of what she might say in response to the front you and Mat are trying to uphold. But for the first time in what feels like too long, you no longer feel like a fraud; like a person lying to everyone around them.
“Wait.” Rachel frowns, and it was obvious she doesn’t quite know what to do with that information or how to best process it. Her head tilts a little, palm idly rubbing against the side of her neck so you take the initiative to come across as unbothered by this as possible by leaning into the seat, legs crossing as you fiddled with the drink’s straw. “What? I’m confused. Didn’t Mat just drop by earlier? You two seemed okay. He was…fine when he came in. We didn’t talk much, sure, but he was all smiley and just…normal.”
You laugh quietly and shortly. “It’s been a while now. Maybe two or three weeks before I left for Baltimore, I think. It’d be pretty worrying if he was still hung up about it. After all, we both agreed on it. And this,” you add, a little more disheartened and embarrassed. “This…thing we’re doing. We promised Tito and Elise we’ll be there for them on their big day and we will. But they had this… I guess, idea of us being an ideal couple. Whatever that is,” you continue more quietly and with a roll of your eyes. “He wanted to tell Tito, but I didn’t want to spoil Elise’s day, you know? So he agreed. Took some convincing because it feels so… Gosh, it sounds so stupid, doesn’t it? Pretending we’re still together just to spread some fake cheer around.”
“Oh, honey…” Rachel whispers and you read the sympathy in her voice. Not that she makes it particularly difficult to take note of. “But… I thought everything was okay. Actually, way more than okay. Perfect, even. What…uh—“ She trailed off awkwardly, but you could easily fill in that gap.
What happened?
You bring the beverage to your mouth, this time drinking from the glass directly as opposed to using the straw. The mixer stings your throat this time around but the small ice cube you take into your mouth numbs it away pretty quickly. Slowly, you chew it to small pieces and speak only when you finish it.
“I thought long and hard about this the first few weeks after we called it quits,” you admit. “We always talked about what bothered us or if there was something on our mind, but at one point we just… We stopped wanting to compromise. When I was put forward for Baltimore, it was going to be a permanent thing. Mat was happy, sure, but I could tell he wasn’t being entirely honest with me, you know? When I called him out on it, he asked me well what about us? And I said we’d be fine. Baltimore isn’t a different continent. It’s not even a different timezone. He could come over when he had free time and if he didn’t, I’d always spend weekends in New York anyway. It’s Baltimore, Rach. Not fucking San Francisco or whatever. Eventually, he told me exactly what was on his mind: he couldn’t do long distance. Not even for a short period of time while I figured out if Baltimore is really what I wanted. Isn’t it a bit hypocritical, though?” You question, but it’s clear Rachel feels a bit awkward about giving her take on it right now, so you make it easier for her by responding to your own question. “I felt lonely too when he was on the road. I was worried he’d find someone different, someone much better while away. He never gave me a reason to doubt him, but a small part of me still thought what if. This happened right before he was on the road again, actually. We didn’t call, barely even texted those weeks and then when he returned, we decided it’d be best to break up. Didn’t take us a long discussion to get to that conclusion because at that point, it just… I don’t know. It felt like we didn’t have much to say to each other.”
Rachel presses her lips together, the frown still on her face and hesitantly, she asks, “who said it first?”
“I did,” you respond without hesitating. “He wanted a break while we work it all out but come on, Rach, a break? Look me in the eyes and tell me people really believe in breaks and they come back to each other as if nothing happened.”
“I mean…” she trails off, pointing at herself by way of explanation. “Look at me and Luke, I guess.”
You shake your head. “Nope. Not the same thing, trust me. This was for the best, Rach. It’s much neater to call it quits. That way, neither of us will feel obliged to hold back if life puts something different ahead of us.” You pause for a moment, teeth biting into your lower lip. “They said they’ll always have me back there if I decide on it, so who knows. Once I wrap up the project their called me back for, I might just take them up on it. Not quite a promotion, but it’ll be a good sidestep and maybe a change of scenery is what I need.”
“And do you think it’s good? What the two of you are doing right now?” Rachel questions, not at all deterred by your weak attempt at trying to divert conversation to a more work related topic. “And I don’t mean it just for Elise and Tito’s wedding, but for you and Mat generally speaking. I mean… the two of you have been together for a pretty long time. Doesn’t it… Isn’t it odd?”
“It’s not normal, that’s for sure,” you confirm. “But it’d be weirder for everyone if we were to tell them we’re no longer together given we’ve been asked to do what we need to do. Rach, promise me this stays between us, okay? Promise. I know how it sounds, I know how it’ll look but trust me on this, okay?”
She fixes you with a sceptical stare, a look that holds yet more questions than certainty but eventually, she nods her head and relief washes over you at the gesture. “I’m sorry it happened, Y/N,” she offers, voice warm and sympathetic as she places a hand on the table palm up. “And I’m sorry you went through it alone.”
You smile softly and reach for it, returning the squeeze she gives you. There is comfort in the gesture, comfort in her words and you find yourself rooting for it, so grateful to have received it. “The worst part is over, but thank you, Rachel. “It means a lot.”
“Feel like carpooling with Luke and I?”
“I’m good,” you assure as you both relax back into your seats. “Elise wants us there the day before the rehearsal. I guess just to have some familiar faces around that aren’t just wedding planners, so Mat and I agreed to go together tomorrow. Promise I won’t lose my shit if our song plays on the radio,” you add jokingly and find yourself laughing along with Rachel.
“What song’s that?”
Too many, you think, although one in particular stands out to you. “Brett Young’s In Case You Didn’t Know.”
*
A tray containing an assortment of dishes is set on the table and shortly after, an ice cold pitch of sangria accompanies that. Eager to cool down, you reach for one of the empty glasses to pour yourself a drink but Mat’s quicker. He takes them both, filling your glass first before his own. You laugh to yourself and Mat grins at that, briefly looking towards you as he fills his glass. You’re about to take a sip, eager to both quench your thirst and cool down but Mat takes the initiative of initiating a toast by raising his glass a little, elbow resting on the table.
“What’re we toasting for tonight?” You ask, imitating his pose by leaning forward a little. “To our first holiday together? To how perfect the weather’s been so far? To how I mastered paddle boarding way before you did?”
Mat laughs, lowering his head as he did so but when he looked back up at you, he clinked his glass against yours and held it there. “To all of that. To one of the many, many holidays we’ll have together. To this moment right here, to us, to you.” He pauses and the strobe lights of the bar switch from dark blue to hot pink, and the way Mat stares at you in this moment makes your heart race inexplicably. “To how much I love you.”
He takes your breath away. Draws it right out of your lungs and you feel heady. It’s the first summer with Mat, the first I love you from him and it suddenly feels as if this bar is too small for the both of you. You love him, and he loves you too and the only thing you could imagine doing is jumping in his arms but there’s a table between you and sangria topped wine glasses in your hands, and he’s wearing a pristine white shirt that looks incredible against his tanned skinned and there’s a lot of people around (the majority significantly older than both your age and Mat’s combined) so you simply grin and carefully lean forward more, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
“I love you,” you murmur against his lips and even if your voice is low compared to the loud, cheesy country music blasting through hidden stereos, you know Mat catches on to that.
“I love you,” he says right back and before you pull away, he bumps his nose against yours gently, making you giggle.
You both take a sip of your drinks and you smack your lips together, content with the turn of the night.
You and Mat had been dating for a few months, but this was the first time the two of you will spend back to back nights and days together without needing to rush somewhere. Of course, a part of you was anxious about it - while it was easy to spend a few hours together now and then, maybe even the odd night together, it was entirely different being together pretty much all the time. There were habits and quirks you each had that might get in the way, but your worries were soon put to rest. You and Mat had wonderful chemistry together, easily able to spend your time together but also still enjoy each other’s company while doing separate activities. You didn’t want to rush into things and you made no move to do so, but it was ever so easy to imagine what living with Mat would be like. And sure, you were well aware of the fact that it wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows; the two of you would eventually transition out of this honeymoon-type period of your relationship, but something told you life would Mat would never bore you. It’d never make you wish for anything different.
“Give me a second,” Mat says and before you could ask him what he meant, he’s out of his seat and you follow him across the bar, a little confused.
He makes his way past the bar, past the pool tables and stops in front of what is undoubtedly a jukebox. Curious, you arch an eyebrow and watch as he fiddles with finding the right amount of change before inserting the coins in the slot. It takes him a while before he finds whatever song it is he wants and it takes enough time for him to make it back to your table before the jukebox and sound system registers the request. You don’t recognise the first few notes at all, much less the accompanying guitar strings but you don’t have time to search your memory for a title.
Mat stops by your side, holding a hand out to you. “Dance with me.” It’s more statement than question and under any circumstances, you may have felt a little awkward about doing this, but it’s the heat of the moment and your giddiness that pushes you to your feet, hand in Mat’s.
The two of you are beaten to an emptier area in the establishment by two other much older couples that were closer to it anyway, and you find that gives you a bit more of a boost also. Mat pulls you to him, wrapping one arm around your waist while holding on to your free hand while you hold on to his shoulder with the other. Your fingers lightly clench and unclench the soft material of his shirt, lowering your head a little and you smile against the back of your hand. It’s so painfully cheesy and there’s nowhere near enough other people dancing along to the song but you love it much more than you thought you ever would.
“Know what I’d invest all my money into?” He asks you suddenly.
You pull back a little, still swaying along with the song. “Cryptocurrency seems like a safe bet right now.”
Mat laughs, that big hearty laugh of his that makes your smile wider and when it passes, he presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Well, I’m glad one of us has a good head on their shoulders, but no.” He shakes his head, then laughs again, shorter and quieter as if recalling your response. “A time machine. I want to stop time right here and right now so that we can be as we are for a little while longer.”
“Cheesy,” you joke, despite the warmth coursing across your entire body and the jelly-like feeling forming in your knees. “But perfectly understandable.”
“Eventually, we wouldn’t need it, but it’d be nice to have one for tonight.”
“Eventually? How so?” You question, then narrow your eyes a little, the gesture playful. “You plan on getting bored of me and breaking up?”
“What!” He exclaims and pulls you in just that much closer. He lets go of your hand only so he could bring his to your chin, tipping your head back a little. “Never,” kiss, “say that,” kiss, “again.” The final kiss you share with him is a little longer and you take the liberty of bringing your hand to his chest, palm pressing against it to feel the thump of his heart against his ribcage momentarily. Then, slowly, you graze the tips of your nails along his exposed collarbone and peck his lips once more before pulling away. It’s then that the song’s name and artist comes to your mind, almost as an afterthought. From hidden speakers, Brett Young declares I couldn’t live life without you and Mat gives you a pointed stare. “Damn, he said it before I could.”
“It’s the thought that counts,” you assure him. “Either way, I think I prefer hearing it from you, Barzal.”
“I’m pretty sure I couldn’t live without you,” he recites and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. He sways you both in a more exaggerated manner that makes you cling to him more out of habit than necessity. You’ve known you’d trust Mat with anything, but each day, he seems to do something that makes that thought solidify more and more in your mind. The comfort and safety that brings wraps around you like a warm blanket.
Be it the hot weather, the somewhat stifling interior of the bar, the sips of sangria on an empty stomach, the euphoria of the moment or all things combined, you nod quickly. And from somewhere in the depths of your mind, the very bottom of your heart, you respond with, “I can get used to this day after day. So don’t let me go, baby.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispers, tone full of care and love and warmth. He gives you his promise without hesitation and you know it’s bound to stick.
*
Your phone buzzes once.
I’m downstairs. Need help with your bags?
You push up from the comfort of your couch and make one last round of your apartment to make sure you had everything you definitely needed from where it was placed.
I’m good. Will be down in a minute, you text back but don’t pocket your phone right away. Instead, you stare at the screen for a little while longer, half tempted to scroll through the thread of messages. They’d provide a stark timeline of when things started going wrong and you would probably be able to see exactly how things changed between the two of you from the moment you suggested a mere break wouldn’t do it. But doing that would be like breaking a streak you had going for sufficient time to earn a pat on your back. The journey of getting to a point where you were sufficiently okay with being in Mat’s presence without any other company was a long one and the last thing you needed was to recall how it once was.
You and Mat started out as friends after Elise introduced the two of you just a short while before he started his professional career with the Islanders. She talked about how the two of them met in school and how great of a guy he was; real down to earth, funny and incredibly ambitious - traits she also assigned to you, and therefore thought the two of you would get along great. She wasn’t wrong about it. You knew a little about hockey, going to games every now and then mostly whenever Elise dragged you along but you found that Mat made the game more enjoyable. He explained it to you in a manner that didn’t make you feel belittled or as if it should be something you already knew of, and didn’t mind explaining some things more than once. On the other hand, you introduced him to your own hobbies and the little world you created for yourself in a city as big and busy as New York. You showed him the more lowkey but homely establishments, including your favourite pizza place that - unbeknown to you at the time - would become yours and his, and even took him to a few student bars where you regularly beat him at pool while he showed off at darts. Occasionally, it felt weird to watch him unwind in such…normal places and ways while on other days, he shone on ice and was easily one of the best rookies emerging from one of the country’s most well known sports leagues. Yet despite that, you found that athlete Mat wasn’t all that different from Mat the person.
He never put a front and his genuine manner was refreshing to you, particularly during a time when you were still a college student and a good portion of the guys around were textbook frat boys. Being around Mat was comfortable and safe. You didn’t feel the need to speak a certain way or be a different person, and retrospectively, the way you felt towards him developed almost organically. You felt yourself gravitating towards him and were pleasantly surprised by the moments when he’d seek you out first. A day off here and a day off there until eventually, you found yourself spending much of your free time with him and vice-versa.
Falling in love with Mat was easy. Being without Mat was difficult. But, thankfully, not impossible apparently.
Convinced you packed everything you needed, made your way out with a duffle bag on your shoulder and a suitcase at your heels.
True to his word, Mat was parked in front of your place and as soon as you pushed open the building’s door, he looked up from his phone and made his way over to you. The last thing you needed was to make the journey any more awkward or difficult for the both of you, so you didn’t argue when he took the bags from you to stow them away in the trunk.
“Are you going across the country?” You ask, peeking into the trunk while he plays Tetris with the bags.
“What?” He questions, evidently distracted by the task at hand but straightens up when you delicately place a hand on his arm, pushing him to the side a little.
“You’d think you’re going across the country for like, two or three weeks rather than a couple of days,” you repeat. “Maybe put that smaller bag sideways? That might let the bigger suitcase fit.”
He follows your guidance and sure enough, that does the trick: the suitcases fit perfectly in the trunk and you grin to yourself, triumphant.
Mat steps back, closing the trunk and brushes his hands together. “Thanks,” he says and you nod, heading towards your seat in the front. He follows you inside just as you click in your seatbelt. “I don’t think it’ll take us more than two or three hours to get there if traffic’s as good as it was when I checked it a little while earlier. Got everything?”
“Everything important that is. Everything else, I’ll just worry about and pull my hair out when we get there,” you tell him and you can’t help feeling proud for being able to keep conversation light and as normal as you can.
After all, you’ve known life before Mat and you’re rediscovering it after him too.
Mat laughs ever so quiet, and from the corner of your eye, you catch him brushing his hand across his mouth though he’s a few seconds too slow in trying to mask his smile.
“I think I’ll need to fill up soon, but let me know if there’s anywhere else you want to stop along the way,” he tells you while pulling out of the parking spot.
You nod even if he probably might not see it and take the liberty to scroll through radio stations. Mat doesn’t seem to be against it, so you continue switching to them until, a little frustrating that nothing seems to work for you, you connect your phone to the car and play one of your playlists. A mix of upbeat pop and an assortment of viral tracks fill in the silence for a while, and the act of singing along in your head takes your mind away from how it almost feels as if you’re sitting on needles. It takes a conscious effort on your behalf to remind yourself to loosen your shoulders and stop fiddling too much with your hands, and you’re glad Mat seems to be plenty preoccupied with driving. Once upon a time, he would’ve immediately picked up on even the most mild of your discomforts and tried to do anything he could to alleviate them. You don’t know how much, if at all, Mat changed during the time you spent apart but you want to think that you no longer wear your heart on your sleeve as much and your emotions are much more guarded, especially in his presence.
Apparently, though, there’s only so much he can take with silence filled in by music because once he’s off busier streets, he leans in his seat more comfortably and you can tell he very briefly turns his head towards you. “Think they’ll like their wedding gift?”
You direct your gaze away from the flashing scenery outside to Mat. “Absolutely. Who wouldn’t like it? Trust me when I say Bali’s been a place Elise always wanted to visit and I can’t think of a better time than now,” you assure him.
“If they don’t, it’s on you,” he says and it takes you a beat longer to realise he’s just joking so you huff out a laugh, relaxing back in the seat.
“If they don’t, they can give one of the tickets to me and I’ll happily go there.” You cast a glare out at the scenery ahead, eyes narrowing upwards towards the overcast sky. “I don’t think summer will ever come at this rate. I’m starting to hate it here.”
“Doubt Baltimore was any better,” Mat points out.
“Hardly,” you sigh. “Maybe I’ll ask them to send me to Miami instead. That’d be much better.”
Mat clears his throat quickly, shifting a little. “So, are you planning on going back to Baltimore or... Why are you back?” You catch sight of the frown forming on his face, and he quickly shakes his head as if trying to rid the hint of accusation from his voice. “That sounded wrong, sorry. But just genuinely curious. I thought a permanent move was on the table?”
“It was. Still is, but they needed me back here to wrap up a project. It was a pretty bad move on their behalf to send me there before we had that wrapped up nice and neat, bow and all, but I guess…” You trail off, shrugging a shoulder. “Guess we’ll see what’s next after that. They do want me back there, though. It just depends how long it takes for things here to fall into place.”
“Fair enough.” Another pause, another moment for him to press his lips together in silent deliberation. He did that often, and you wonder if that remains a habit still. “Was it a promotion? I forgot, sorry.”
“All good,” you assure, brushing off the apology. “Not a promotion per se, but a sidestep with just a slightly bigger paycheck. The office there is a bit smaller than the New York one so maybe there’s a higher chance of getting promoted sooner, but I don’t want to jump the gun on that yet. How did things work out for you guys this season?”
The Islanders had a good season, making the playoffs but fell just short of making the semi-finals, you knew that. After all, you hadn’t removed the Islanders game and news alerts from your phone and you put that on your laziness. You wouldn’t shy away from admitting to him you still followed the team’s progression, but you preferred not to.
“Could’ve been better but there’s lots to learn from it,” Mat tells you and there’s a trace of excitement and determination in his voice. “Next season will be even better, I guarantee.”
It’s a staple Mat response, one he always gave if he felt a game didn’t end in their favour or he didn’t do as much as he thought he should have. Sometimes, it took him some time to accept it. Usually, it came to him after pushing himself in training, after going that extra step in the gym, after re-watching highlights or coach videos and always - always, you’d assure him that it takes a team to move forward, not a single person. Always, he’d kiss you and tell you he loves you and always, you’d spend those moments wrapped up in each other’s arms, more often than not with Mat’s head resting against your chest and your leg slung around his hip.
“Plenty of time to lift that cup, Barzal,” you assure him. “Sure, the sooner the better but there’s always a right time for everything.”
“I hope so,” he agrees pensively, and lingers on that thought.
You let him to it, directing your attention back to the view outside and only now and then picking up your phone either to switch songs or browse through a few applications. A part of you feels almost obliged to try and push for conversation but you avoid doing so. The last thing you need is to make it painfully awkward for the two of you and you figure Mat could always do that himself if he feels like it. So, you let your mind wander to better things - to the upcoming rehearsal and the wedding itself, to how good Elise will look and how Tito will be so proud to watch her walk the aisle towards him. You imagine their reaction to the gift you and Mat contributed towards and smiled to yourself, knowing it was a perfect pick for them both.
You don’t think about telling Elise you and Mat had lied to them. You don’t think about passing this hurdle - the final one before you two will become strangers to one another. You don’t think about how the next time you might both see each other again, you’ll both have such different lives that for a brief moment, the surprise of it will knock the air out of your lungs before you remember: that’s him without me, and this is me without him. And you won’t be the first or the last people to break up, but a part of you is certain what the two of you had was unique and could’ve been grand. So much grander.
You become more alert to your surroundings when he starts slowing the car and you notice you’re pulling up into a gas station. As much as space allows you, you stretch out a little and Mat stops right by one of the pumps.
“Want something for the road?” You ask him, unplugging your phone and taking your card from your bag.
“Hold on, I’ll come with you,” Mat tells you and it doesn’t take long for the refill to happen before you both walk into the station’s store, beelining for the snack aisles even if you have only two hours or so until you reach your destination.
“Oh gosh, those are going to be a nightmare to clean up if you spill any in the car,” you groan quietly as he browses through the variety of Nerds flavours.
“But they’re so good though,” he shoots back and flashes a smile that is nothing short of sly when he picks up two boxes instead of one.
“Yeah, until the flavour runs out literally two seconds after you put them in your mouth. I mean, enjoy that but I’m different,” you boast and pick up a bag of sour candy.
“You just like obliterating your taste buds.”
He’s not wrong. Sour candy and spicy foods are your guilty pleasures, and have been for the longest time. You don’t try to look into how easily he recalls that because, you tell yourself, there’s nothing to look into. It’s a mere fact that anyone who knows you would easily recite.
“You’re wrong and you know it, but admitting that is difficult so it’s fine, Barzal. No hard feelings,” you throw back, snickering as you head over to the fridges for a bottle of cold water. Instinctively, you grab another for him and instinctively, he takes your candy and the water to pay for them but you still tag along with him in the queue.
“No shot. I like some spice but to the point where I literally can’t taste anything else? Hey, remember that one time when you made something… Can’t remember what it was but it was so…” He purses his lips and you laugh because yes, yes you remember it so clearly.
“So good you ended up crying over it?” You offer.
“More like, I wasn’t crying but it was so fucking spicy, Y/N, holy.”
“You survived though, didn’t you?”
“I only did because there isn’t a thing you do I don’t like,” he says and then, seems to catch himself but a second too late. “Didn’t like,” he corrects quietly but the damage is done.
You swallow uncomfortably, directing your gaze away from him but don’t hesitate to nod towards the outside. “I’ll head over to the car. I’ll text Elise to tell her we’re close.”
“Y/N—“
But you’re already taking steps towards the exit and out of ear shot, making a beeline for the car. Your heart thumps rapidly and uncomfortable in your chest and find that pressing a palm to your left side doesn’t make it any better. You know it’s an innocent mistake and there are some habits that die hard, but the way he phrased it triggered your fight or flight instinct instantaneously and despite yourself, you leaned towards the latter. You enter the car and take the time to compose yourself as much as you could. The last thing you need is to have a conversation with Mat about this because you didn’t want to have it - it shouldn’t happen for the sake of avoiding making the situation even more uncomfortable. It was an innocent slip up, no doubt, and you should’ve braced yourself to speak of Mat in present tense as opposed to past tense in the presence of others but it comes to you harder than imagined.
It’s odd how you both once knew so much about each other, everything even, and now the two of you are reduced to dancing around all that and making conscious efforts to keep your conversations as short and banal as possible.
You try and busy yourself with formulating a message to Ellie, one that’s long enough to try and make you seem as busy as possible by the time Mat returns to the car, but every line you wrote, every mini paragraph going into dull details about the trip and where you guys currently are seemed like an overthrow. So, you delete that also and simply text her an OTW just as Mat sets the sweets on the centre console and the bottles in the cup holders.
He doesn’t start the engine immediately and your mood quickly switches to frustration. Sure, you hadn’t handled it in the best way possible but trying to have a conversation about it wouldn’t make it any better. Or at least, it’s just something you didn’t want to have to think about for the remainder of the journey.
But he does just that, because that is what Mat always did: he talked with you.
“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable,” he begins, “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. It’s force of habit more than anything else.”
“It’s whatever, Mat, so just move past it. I did, simple as that,” you tell him neutrally.
There’s something in that response he must have not liked because you pick up on his small huff and shortly after, the car starts and you’re both on the road again. This time, with silence between you and an atmosphere so heavy it makes you wish you weren’t speeding down an Interstate just so you could open the window and let some of the air in.
-
The hotel the wedding will be held at lies in front of you, sprawling and secluded and perfect for an event like this. Tito is already at the entrance and when he spots Mat’s car, he waves quickly while Mat quickly flashes the headlights before pulling into an available parking spot.
“There they are!” Tito says by way of greeting and you walk right into his outstretched arms, hugging him. “Can’t believe so much time passed since we last saw each other. What is it, two months? Three?”
“Three,” you confirm once you pull away so that Mat could hug him also. “It’s good to see you too. Where’s Elise?”
“She wanted to check on some small details and said she’ll meet up with you guys in a bit. So here I am, the welcoming committee,” Tito explained and when he and Mat stepped apart, he reached out to give you another short hug which you accepted. “So how was Baltimore? Don’t suppose you liked it all that much if you’re back so soon. This guy was happy about it,” Tito adds, nodding his head towards Mat who was already busy emptying the trunk.
You press your lips together, displaying a small smile. “Baltimore wasn’t too bad but they missed me here, apparently. Can’t complete a damn thing without my two cents so here I am for now.”
Tito frowns, but the expression is very brief. “For now? We’ll need to talk more about that later so Barzy doesn’t mope around as much as he did back then.”
You throw a quick glance towards Mat but he’s looking away towards whatever interesting spot on the ground he found, pointedly ignoring you. “I’ll have a word with him about it later,” you tell Tito lightly and together, the three of you make your way inside, towards the reception.
“I think Elise is in the room at the end of the corridor if you want to say hi,” Tito informs you and you jump at the opportunity.
You follow the corridor, making a right turn and continuing along the dimly lit hallway leading to what the signs informed you to be Conference Room 1. The door is slightly ajar and you begin picking up on the buzz of activity coming from within and soon enough, you’re face to face with a spacey room boasting an array of flowers and various arrangements tastefully decorating tables and drooping down from the ceiling. No doubt, the effect will be lovely during the night when colourful neon lights can be turned on. You spot Elise easily: she’s in the midst of the room with what is undoubtedly the scrapbook of ideas she’d been carefully putting together since Tito asked her to marry him. Outwardly, she’s all smiles and laughter but you can imagine the amount of effort and planning putting all of this together and working with planners takes.
When she spots you, she squeals in excitement, sets her book down and dashes across the room to engulf you in a hug, making you stumble a few steps back.
You burst into laughter and wrap your arms around her, squeezing her with just enough force to try and communicate how much you missed her but not so that it was uncomfortable.
“I missed you! You’re here!” She exclaims, stepping back to look at you in disbelief then hugging you again. “Oh my gosh, I’m so happy you’re here! Where’s Mat? Is he here too?”
“Of course he is,” you assure her with a laugh. “I missed you too.” You throw a curious glance towards the room over her shoulder, nodding your head towards it. “How’s it going? Need me to take over for a bit?”
“Maybe later. Definitely later. Come on.” She wraps an arm around yours and leads the way out of the room, undoubtedly back to the reception area where you left Mat and Tito. “Please tell me Baltimore is off the table. FaceTime is fine, sure, but it’s not great, you know? I need the real deal next to me. Besides, I’m not sure if you heard, but Mat wasn’t Mat without you.”
“So I heard, but forget about us!” You said in a desperate attempt to try and steer attention away from the subject. “Tell me about how everything’s going. Are you still nervous about it? Because trust me, Elise - you have absolutely nothing to be nervous of. What I’ve heard of so far and what I’ve seen will make it the absolute best day, surely.”
“Of course I’m nervous,” she tells you and to demonstrate, she holds her free hand in front of you and sure enough, there’s just a slight tremble to it. “Please lend me some of those nerves of steel of yours, Y/N, I’d do anything to have even a small percentage of them right now.”
“Pft, as if. Those are all show, trust me.”
“I’ll take even that. Oh, Mat!” She greets as soon as the two of you reach the reception area and Elise spots Mat.
Much like you and Tito, they hug and when she steps back, she immediately stands next to Tito who doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. They exchange a quick kiss and you smile at the happiness and bliss they’re clearly surrounded by.
It’s the slight pressure on your lower back that makes you jolt a little on the spot and it’s then you realise Mat had gently placed his hand there to encourage you a little closer. It takes effort on your behalf to follow his guidance but you move towards him, though you wish you could physically wince at how undoubtedly stiff the two of you must look. Or hopefully, not greatly so because neither Tito nor Elise comment on it or shoot you any funny looks as the four of you engage in brief conversation, mainly surrounding the trip here and any other guests they expect to receive today.
You don’t hang around much, though. Elise’s phone begins buzzing incessantly and she’s whisked away by the message received, but not before she fixes you with a pointed stare and demands the two of you have drinks later in the evening. Tito follows her also, even if he informs you and Mat that he feels as if he’s running around in the right places only because of Elise and the wedding planners, but you encourage him on by joking he could maybe turn a few candles on the tables this way or that for some extra oomph.
“I can’t imagine how she does it,” you admit to Mat once the elevator doors slide shut soundlessly and the car begins moving upwards to your floor.
“Pretty sure it’s not that big of a deal to her, given what all this is leading to,” Mat tells you and you detect a hint of detachment in his voice.
You don’t welcome it, of course you don’t, but you choose to not point that out to him. The last thing you want is an argument to break out the relatively okay mood the two of you have managed to hold, recent events that could be erased from memory aside. Instead, you simply stand back quietly, eyes glued on the red digital numbers aside until they come to a halt on the ninth floor where the elevator stops and you’re both left in a silent, dimly lit hallway.
Mat has the key to the apartment Elise told you the two of you would be in and just before tapping in, he hands you your own copy of it. Up until this very moment, you hadn’t thought very much of the overnight arrangements. You were pretty sure you meant to ask Elise a bit more about them at some point but both your attention and hers were pulled in different directions and here you were, stepping into your place for the next couple of nights, Mat trailing a little behind you.
You stop, arms folding across your chest and you feel Mat stop somewhere close behind you, looking into one room.
“I didn’t think this through,” you state neutrally.
Ahead of you lay only one bed.
#mat barzal#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#nhl imagine#nhl fanfic#nhl fic#*#the synopsis sucks but i'm bad at short summaries lol#i had this idea since i first joined hockeyblr and i'm happy to have finally found the motivation to write it#anyway i have a vague idea for some scenes#and there will probably be three MAYBE four parts to it
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“Reader and Steve end up exposed to something on a mission that cause them to body swap. It would be hot as hell if one of them was seeing Bucky too and he decides to have fun with their misfortune. “
I just want to say how much i loved this one shot u did. it was phenomenal. in the story it says how steve was playing with himself in the readers body and he had to push away bucky at one point. is it possible u can do a drabble on that scene?
haha omg yesss this is a great idea, glad you liked the original! read part 1 here
steve wanted to keep his hands to himself... and he knew he should... but they weren’t even really his hands.
the best thing about it being your hands is that they knew exactly what to do; exactly which spots to tease and pinch and rub in slow, gentle circles.
steve had long dreamed of the day he’d get the chance to memorize your body, to learn about all the things that made you moan and whimper and beg. now he had it all right in front of him, and he wanted to feel you so bad. but it was wrong. it was so, so wrong.
there was a reason steve had never actually gotten the chance to touch you like this-- because you didn’t want him to. if you did, you would’ve said so.
yet he could feel need pulsing between his legs, and it was totally unlike how his body had experienced this before. this was so much more... intense. and when he gave in and actually touched the swollen little bud that had been throbbing for his attention, it was indescribable.
his whole body-- or, your whole body-- jolted instantly, with an arched back and a bitten lip.
“fuck,” he gasped, loving how it sounded in your voice. he couldn’t have predicted how perfect your moans would be, and he was really enjoying being the one who caused them even if his actual body wasn’t here.
it was like once he started, he couldn’t stop. he made you come over and over, amazed at how quickly you could bounce back and already be raring to go again. he closed his eyes and imagined what this would be like if it was really you and he was really him, if instead of rubbing your clit you were bouncing on his cock, coming again and again, jumping his bones just a few minutes after you’d finished and starting the process all over.
he usually found himself whispering your name under his breath when he got himself off... but when he was in your body, it would’ve just been weird.
he was coming down from the high of orgasm number 5 and about to get going on number 6 when a knock at his-- your-- door made him jump up and run to it. he wiped his fingers off on your pyjama shorts, assuming it was you on the other side of the door here to figure out how to fix this, but he was shocked when he found bucky there instead.
“looks like you got started without me,” he grinned before abruptly pulling steve into a kiss, pushing him back into your room and slamming the door as he pinned you to the wall. “you know you could’ve just called me,” bucky mumbled into the kiss, and steve was very confused and entirely speechless, “you know my fingers are so much better...”
crazy enough, as bucky’s metal fingers trailed down your stomach which rose and fell with quick breaths, steve was actually considering letting him do it. but none of this made sense. it didn’t seem fair to you or steve or bucky, who would definitely not want to do this if he knew it was steve in this body.
but even if it were you, what gave him the right to show up out of nowhere and throw himself on you?
in a moment of integrity, steve growled and shoved bucky off of him. “hey, hands off, pal!”
bucky gave steve a quizzical look. “what’s wrong? did I misinterpret the meaning of ‘come over’?”
“when did I tell you to come over?”
“uhh...” bucky furrowed his brow, “this morning? right after that big debrief, you whispered in my ear and asked me to come over tonight...?”
“oh. I... forgot,” steve felt your face warm a bit, but it was certainly his own embarrassment coming through-- others had suspected that there was tension between you and bucky, but steve had been oblivious to it. now he had to figure out how to get bucky to leave him alone without breaking up with him for you. which he was definitely considering, since steve dreamed of having you all to himself, but he wasn’t that immoral.
“well,” bucky mumbled, stepping a bit closer again, “did you change your mind? want me to leave you alone?”
“y-yeah,” steve nodded quickly, “sorry. I’ll see you another time.”
“tired of me already?” bucky pressed, his hand brushing over steve’s arm as the warmth of his breath made him shiver. “you’ve got your mind on somebody else, don’t you? I can tell.”
steve shivered as bucky’s lips kissed along your neck, his tongue darting out to run over a sensitive place that made your legs threaten to give out. “no, it’s not that--”
“I know you always wanted steve to fuck you,” he finally announced, and steve’s heart dropped down to your stomach. as if violating your body wasn’t enough, he was now learning secrets about you from someone he wasn’t even supposed to know you were sleeping with. it was so not okay but he had no clue what to say to divert him. “remember that little fantasy you told me about? where steve takes you and I watch, tell him exactly how to make you feel good?”
steve shuddered, swallowing dryly at both that mental image and the knowledge that you, apparently, wanted it. bucky laughed softly, pulling your body even closer as steve considered pushing him away but realized he might not be able to with your strength (or lackthereof).
“tell me to stop and I will,” he reminded you lowly, “tell me you don’t want me, and I’ll let you go and you can get back to getting yourself off thinking about your new little crush... but do me a favor and don’t lie to me.”
steve looked up at bucky with wide eyes. it had been a long time since he looked up at bucky, and it brought back memories he thought he’d forgotten long ago. it was a little too painful, a little too overwhelming, and he looked down at where your feet were nervously shuffling on the floor-- but bucky put a finger under your chin and tilted your face up to look at him one more time.
“do you want me, or not?” bucky asked, staring straight into his eyes and steve had no way to handle that, whatsoever. he couldn’t answer that question. and he couldn’t lie. so he went a different direction.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled quickly, slipping out of bucky’s grasp, “I have to go, right now, but we’ll talk later, okay?”
he was worried that he would hurt his feelings, create a rift between you two over this extremely peculiar misunderstanding. instead, bucky just smirked a little, a glint in his eye making steve wonder if bucky knew something that he didn’t.
“I’ll see you around, dollface,” bucky nodded cryptically as steve made a dash for the door and down the hall, to his own room, in search of you and a solution to this mess.
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Thirst
Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 3.8k | Vampire AU
Summary: You have walked the earth for more than a hundred years but your eternity finally means something the second you meet a human boy with smiles brighter than the sun.
Warnings: Vampire!Reader X Human!Hyuck, unprotected sex, blood sucking
“Wait, ah…”
You pull back at the sound of his voice, fingers squeezing his upper arm. “Nervous?”
Donghyuck throws his head back and runs a hand over his face. He averts his gaze, slightly hiding behind his lean fingers. “Of course, I’m nervous,” he confesses, the tip of his ears turning scarlet. “I have a cute girl sitting on my lap, about to drink blood from my neck—how could I not be nervous?”
You reach out to him, gently running your fingertips at the side of his throat, and see him swallow hard at your touch. You can hear his heartbeat soaring, which only fuels your thirst for his blood. It has been days since you last drank from him and the flame in your throat is scorching. You know that if you don’t do something about it fast, you’ll lose what’s left of your humanity.
“Hyuck…” You plead, gripping against the collar of his black shirt. “I’m… I really need to drink…”
All the anxiety on his face is replaced instantly with concern. “Shit, you’re right, I’m sorry.” He takes a deep breath, unfastening two of his top buttons to reveal more of his collarbones. The previous bite marks have begun to fade on his skin, appearing almost as faint as the little mole he has on his Adam’s apple. He’s beautiful, so beautiful, that if your mind wasn’t too clouded with the thoughts of consuming human blood, you would praise and cherish every little detail of his features with your lips.
Donghyuck closes his eyes, eyebrows adjoined in the middle in anticipation of your bite. His hand is fisting his collar, slowly tugging it down to reveal more sun-kissed skin to your glowing eyes. “H-have it your way.”
The way he’s reacting like a child curling up in fear of a syringe being plunged into their skin, makes you feel contrite but there’s no other option but to consume what he offers. Otherwise, your thirst for blood will drive you to the brink of your sanity, forcing you to do something even more terrible to him.
You try your best to divert your attention and focus more on trying to comfort him, even when your entire body nearly blazes in flame. Softly, you brush your lips against the column of his throat.
Donghyuck shivers, his breathing tatters. “Don’t—“ He curls his fingers, nails sinking into his palms when he feels your mouth move to lay wet kisses down his chest. “Don’t do that, please.”
“I’m trying to calm you down.”
“Well, you’re doing the opposite 'cause then I’ll be nervous for an entirely different reason.” Donghyuck brings the back of his hand to his mouth, murmuring the words against his skin. But despite the heat that warms his cheeks, he does seem a bit more relaxed, slightly smiling sheepishly at you over his flirtatious words. “I’m fine, just do it.”
You nod, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. Caught off guard, the blush blooms a little wider on his face but he tenderly strokes your cheek. “We’ll do that again after you’re finished,” he promises, “A lot of that.” His hooded eyes are captivated with the way your lips glisten under the slide of his thumb. “Right here.”
You smile in return. Landing yet another soft kiss to his jaw this time, you extend your fangs and make your mark.
Donghyuck winces away from the pain of your cuspids puncturing the skin under his jaw, right between the earlobe and the collarbone. His hand immediately finds your shoulder, fingers twisting against the fabric of your dress. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes shut close as he endures the pain, but in the next few seconds, his breathing gradually becomes slower.
His head swirls as the rush of endorphin fills his system, elevating him with bliss. He slides his hand down from your shoulder to your arm, resting it on the dip of your waist. You can hear him curse under his breath but he slowly relaxes, his body reclining with you pressed tightly against his chest.
“You’re not so gentle today, are you?” He chuckles softly, slurring a little bit as his thoughts become hazy with ecstasy. “You don’t usually bite me like that.”
You can’t respond, too busy drowning in the pleasantness of his blood.
“So serious.” He quietly laughs. “Well, I guess, it has been a while since we did this so you must be very thirsty.” His free hand slips around your neck, tangling your locks around his fingers. He lets his lips brush against your strands as he murmurs, “I’m sorry… It must have been painful.”
It was painful. So painful that you were about to lose your mind, but with Donghyuck’s arms wrapped around your body protectively, his warm skin under your fingertips, and his sweet, sweet blood on your tongue, every pain, every suffering, every torture you’ve experienced vanishes into a blur.
“Calm down,” he whispers, his honeyed voice soothes you more than anything else in the world. “You don’t have to rush. I’m not going anywhere.”
And as he relishes the feeling of your tongue on his skin, your teeth sinking to draw even more blood, he closes his eyes again, and witnesses a flashback behind his eyelids.
Eight years-old Lee Donghyuck stood on the frozen ground with his tiny gloves covering his trembling fingers. Smokes of warm breaths were clouding over his mouth. His teeth chattered from the cold; a weird, repetitive melody to his ears. And although his tears were no longer falling, his reddened cheeks were still lined with them.
“Jaeminnie…” He sniffed, one arm hugging himself by the waist while the other one moved to rub his puffy eyes. “Jaeminnie, where are you…?”
His warm chocolate brown beanie was no longer covering his head—a small reminder of how he had previously tripped himself and scraped his knee on the way down. It hurt. His trousers were ripped open from the fall, enough to show the small bleeding wound on his right knee. Kissed by the cold, his ears were red to the tips, freezing.
He was alone. And lost. And no matter how much he called out for Jaemin’s name over and over again, no one ever came to reply.
Losing strength, Donghyuck fell to his knees. His gloved covered fingers sank into the five centimeters deep white snow and he began to cry, as loudly as he could, just like how he usually did at nights when he was too scared of the monster lurking under his bed.
He cried, and he cried, and he cried, and then he stopped.
He was not alone.
Donghyuck had his gaze on you; his big, watery, round eyes blinking in surprise. Your dress was tainted with splotches of red, fresh liquid that dripped from your chin as you just feasted upon a human. Turning around to look at him, Donghyuck noticed something peculiar.
Your eyes were glowing, strikingly so. Even in the darkness, even when the moon didn’t set afoot to shine that night in the silenced forest, Donghyuck saw them shining like the stars. And they were brighter, much brighter than anything he had ever witnessed.
The little boy stopped crying and gazed back at you. But no matter how cold your eyes were as they raked in his features, Donghyuck was not as much afraid as he was curious of why you could stand in the middle of December, wearing nothing but a sleeveless knee-high summer dress. And he was still starstruck with your glowing topaz eyes.
When he reached out a hand, you took a step back by instinct. Humans made you nervous, especially after your last encounter with the hunters. The memory of one of them nearly driving a stake into your heart made you more cautious than ever, even when your opponent was only a child.
Donghyuck stood up and dared himself to take another step and this time you bared your teeth in response. Your natural human face suddenly dispersed into a form of fear the second Donghyuck saw your teeth.
They were fangs, small but sharp enough to tear skin apart. You snarled, like a beast in a corner, ready to pounce when threatened.
But Donghyuck’s fear only lasted for a minute, while his curiosity and admiration lasted forever.
“You…” Donghyuck spoke, his voice quivered from the cold and perhaps, excitement. Blood was still dripping from the corner of your mouth and he saw a long cut, spreading from your right palm to her wrist. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding…”
Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, blinking twice before your shoulders began to loosen.
“If you’re hurt, I have band-aids,” Donghyuck said, immediately shoving his small hand inside his pocket to grab two blue band-aids with soccer balls printed on them. He showed them to you, his teeth still chattering from the cold. “See?”
You examined him more, looking for any kind of sign that he might be a threat to your existence but it was no use. Donghyuck was as harmless as he was adorable. He didn’t even have the strength to keep his little, stubby fingers steady from the cold.
“Why are you crying?” You asked instead, standing a little better in a less offensive stance.
Donghyuck finally remembered. “Nana… Jaeminnie’s gone… He fought with his brother so we went out here to have some time for ourselves but… But we got separated and now he’s gone...”
“In the woods like this?” You wiped the blood off your mouth with the back of your hand. “What, do you want to die? It’s not safe.”
“N-no—I don’t want to die… I didn’t mean it to be like this.” The little boy shook his head. “I was just trying to help… Jaeminnie looked sad and I wanted to help…”
You fell quiet for a moment, noticing how Donghyuck’s eyes had turned watery once again. You retracted your hands, no longer had your claws out to defend yourself. “Maybe your friend’s already gone home first.”
“Y-you think?” Donghyuck’s eyes grew hopeful and that was when you realized that the boy was not crying because he was lost in the woods late at night, nor was he crying because he thought his friend abandoned him. Donghyuck was crying because he was worried sick about him. “W-well, if he’s home then that’s great… I really hope he’s with his family again… Fighting is bad…”
So frail, you thought, humans are so frail. Leave them and they cry. Break them and they die.
You sighed. You couldn’t find the heart to leave him alone.“Come with me,” you said, “I’ll help you find your way out of the woods. You can check whether he’s home or not after that.”
And Donghyuck was not one to think twice when people offered him help. With a bright smile, he let his little feet carry him closer to your spot. “I’m Donghyuck,” he said, smiling brightly as he stood beside you. “And you are?”
You glanced at him, noticing how his bangs were fluttering from the winter breeze. His nose was red and his skin, although it was slightly tanned, was thin and easy for you to sink your teeth into if you wanted to.
You told him your name and you had to repeat it twice until he could pronounce it correctly. He smiled even warmer. “Your name is pretty. Just like you, Noona!”
Noona? You almost snorted. When was the last time someone ever called you that?
But you kept yourself in silence and although you appeared cold, Donghyuck managed to find your charm in his own way.
“Can I hold your hand on the way out, Noona?”
“Don’t get too full of yourself, brat.”
Twenty years-old Lee Donghyuck smiles at the memory, even when he’s somewhat dazed from the chemical of your saliva. He embraces you tighter, sighing close to your ear, “It took a while before you warmed up to me. I’m just so glad you accept me the way I am.”
That’s my line. You close your eyes, fingers curling against the back of his shirt. You can faintly hear his heartbeat growing slower and during the time you begin to worry, Donghyuck caresses your cheek.
“Can we…” He breathes heavily. “Stop for a moment?” His head swirls, always an aftereffect from having his blood sucked more than he can contain. But even then, he still smiles like always.
“Oh…” Embarrassed and startled, you pull away, immediately wiping the trace of blood on the corner of your lips with the back of your hand. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… Umm…” Donghyuck witnesses your fangs before they’re fully retracted, as you turn away, shy and ashamed, hiding the only thing that distinguishes you from a normal human.
Donghyuck smiles wider, and wider, until he produces this little chuckle that always sends a trickle of warmth and desire through your soundless heart. “You’re adorable, come here,” he says, hugging you from behind and tugging you closer to his chest, your intertwined hands lying idly on your lap.
After years have passed by since your first encounter, Donghyuck has become stronger and taller, with broader shoulders and veiny muscles appearing along his wrists. You, in return, stay as young as always, never changing. But like this, sitting above his thighs and curling up to his chest, you look like a normal girl, perhaps even a few months younger than he is.
“Hyuck...”
“Hmm?”
“Did it... hurt?”
“When I fell from heaven?”
You don’t indulge him with his jokes. “When I bit you, did it hurt?”
“Yeah, but I like it.” He grins, placing his chin on your shoulder. "Seems like I’ve developed a kink for it.” When you don’t mirror his laugh, he embraces you tighter. “I’m fine,” he whispers to your ear, tickling you with his warm breath. “Just a little low on blood, but come on, it’s nothing new.”
You don’t say anything but Donghyuck understands how guilt is gnawing at you from the inside. “Hey,” he gently turns your body around until he has his eyes peering into yours. You’re reluctant, not sure how to face him with the look of guilt on your face. “I said I’m fine. Can’t you see?” he coos, smiling with his chocolate brown eyes turning crescents. “Don’t look like that. You know I don’t like it when you’re blaming yourself for drinking my blood.”
“But it’s…” You nibble on your lower lip. “It’s not right.”
“You’re just filling your needs,” Donghyuck corrects you. “What’s wrong with it? I do it all the time. Think about this as your late-night snack.”
“Hyuck, I’m snacking on your blood.”
“And yet you’re the one who complains about it. You see how weird that is?” You shoot him a glare but Donghyuck counters back with a pout—a habit from his childhood days that somehow only occurs more often now that he’s an adult. “Look, I volunteered to do this. I want you to drink my blood.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, leaning close. “I’ll be pissed-off if you drink from someone else, actually. You’re supposed to be mine, just as much as I am yours.”
It’s funny how you’re superior than him in terms of experience, strength, and possibly anything else, but he shamelessly talks like he owns you. And you don’t mind, not at all, because after living behind the shadows for so long, it’s nice to have someone as bright as the sun holding you captive under his light.
You trail your fingers through the blood on his neck, painting his skin with crimson. “I’ve made a mess,” you mumble to yourself and Donghyuck stiffens, even stops breathing for a second. You dip your head into the crook of his neck, darting out your tongue to wipe the rest of his blood away, slowly and gently so you won’t scrape his skin with your fangs.
“Don’t hold back.” He holds you closer until your teeth are grazing against the supple skin. “It’s okay if you want to do it again.”
The temptation is too much, too strong, and you can’t find the will or strength to decline. “T-then... Just a little more.”
Donghyuck’s ragged breathing devolves into soft moans that ring in your ears, and you want him so desperately in every sense of the word. “Fuck, it’s so weird that it feels this good,” he sighs, the back of his head pressed against the wall behind him. “Do I taste this good to you too?”
You hum, squeezing his shoulder.
He smiles between deep sighs. “Then, I guess, we’re both each other’s drugs.”
You only take a sip of his blood and lick the rest until nothing seeps out from his wound. Donghyuck is in a haze, eyes nearly closed when he smiles softly. “Are you done?”
You nod, wiping your mouth clean. “Thank you.”
“You’re being too formal.” He titters. “But you’re welcome. Anytime you want.”
You don’t really blush, not when you’ve lived for more than a century, but Donghyuck has his way to break into your facade and knows when he’s succeeding. He says there’s just something in the way you avert your gaze, the way you lick your lips nervously, or the way you put a hand on his chest as if you were about to push him away, but at the same time, making sure that he stayed near.
Donghyuck understands all that. He knows you like the back of his hand.
“Listen to me,” Donghyuck says, cupping your face with both hands so he can stare directly into your glowing eyes. “If you ever crave for blood, you come to me, okay? I won’t let you starve. I won’t let you die. You can drink from me, as much as you want. I want you to.”
You’re surprised at the sudden pressure on his words and Donghyuck’s hands are hot, nearly scorching compared to your icy cold skin but they’re comfortable. He reminds you of the sun, of its heat on your skin during the day, reminding you how good your life was as a human.
“But I’m not even alive, Hyuck,” you say, smiling weakly as you lean more into his touch.
“Scientifically, no.” He shifts closer to press his forehead against yours, his heat seeping through your skin. “But to me, you’re much more alive—and you make me feel more alive than anyone I’ve ever known.”
You want to meet his eyes, but his stare is directed to your lips. “Is that a compliment or a white lie?” You whisper, and his eyes grow half-lidded when he sees you moving your lips to form a sentence.
“It’s the truth.” Donghyuck swallows the soft noise you make directly with his mouth, lips slanting against yours perfectly like pieces of a puzzle. He groans from the back of his throat when he tastes a hint of his blood on your tongue, kissing you deeper with more passion.
Being with Donghyuck is suffocating and it’s funny because you don’t even need to breathe to live. It’s suffocating in the sense of how desperate his kisses are, how there is only one innocent kiss at the beginning that only lasts for a few seconds and then vanishes entirely, changing into hard, bruising, deep ones that feel possessive and dominating.
But being with him is also comforting. He gives you solace you don’t know you need. His touch, a stark contrast to his kisses, is gentle, almost silky smooth whenever his hands glide on your skin. He’s the only one who knows how to make you laugh, even when you can hardly remember how or the sound that you make when you do. His laughter is contagious, his protested whines are both annoying and endearing. He’s the fire that keeps you alive.
“Hyuck—” You circle your fingers around his wrist, feeling the heartbeat that faintly beats under the skin. “Wait, you’re losing a lot of blood—”
“I don’t care,” he gasps against your mouth, yanking his hand from your hold so he can cup your cheek. “I’m fine, so let’s just—“ You let him overpower you for once to do as he pleases and he pushes you down to the carpeted floor, crawling on top of your body. “I want you—for two weeks, I’ve been—I’ve missed you—”
Donghyuck is adorable when he wants something so desperately, like the way he furrows his eyebrows as he runs his fingers on his keyboards. The way he’s shouting a train of expletives at his computer screen before he leaps out of his chair, punching the air when he finally completes the mission.
Donghyuck is captivating when he desires to achieve something in his life, like the way he practices dancing over and over again to earn a scholarship to college. Or the way he told you he loved you a few months ago, and no matter how many times you said no, telling how ridiculous of him to even think about being with a vampire, he never relented.
And Donghyuck is beautiful—so out worldly beautiful—when he wants you.
It’s beautiful, the little moan that escapes his lips when you touch him back. Even the slightest touch at the right spot can make him shiver and he blushes when you notice him react that way, immediately saying, “It’s just cold here, okay? And your ice-cold skin isn’t helping.”
It’s beautiful, the way a bead of sweat rolls down his temple as he’s sheathed deep inside you, not quite moving yet as he tries to catch his breath, his cheeks flushed. “You’re driving me insane,” he confesses, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, grazing his lips against your skin as he sighs. “Can we stay like this forever?”
It’s beautiful, the way he laughs when you answer him with, “Actually yes, we can, if you’re willing to be turned into a vampire.” The appalled look on his face only stays for a split second before he beams at you, his smile bright enough to replace the sun. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he giggles, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he whispers, “Any man would be happy to sacrifice their souls to be able to make love to you for eternity. Including me.” And as he moves back to your lips, he adds, “Especially me.”
It’s beautiful, the way he throws his head back in pleasure at the feeling of you clenching around him. The way he murmurs expletives while biting his lip as he brings his eyes down to you. His expression is erotic, his voice obscene, his lips are parted and bruised. His hands are on your knees as he spreads your legs apart, pushing himself deeper inside. “I can never get enough of you. I—“ He flinches when his thrust hits your sweet spot and you squeeze harder around him in response.
It’s beautiful, the way he rambles when the sensation becomes too much. “The way you feel around me—” He places open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hips moving frantically at a faster pace. “Y-your entire existence—” His hand heads over to your breast, his thumb sliding over your nub. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
And it’s fucking beautiful, the way he says your name in a soft gasp as he comes inside you, his arms trembling when he places them on the floor on each side of your head to keep him from collapsing on top of you. His temple is pressed against your collarbone and he quivers when you kiss his hair. His lips immediately chase after yours when his name escapes your mouth, and he kisses you again, and again, as if he hasn’t been kissing you a thousand times already.
“Stay with me,” he begs, his hooded eyes nearly hidden behind the bangs that are damp from his sweat. “I’ll keep you alive—as alive as you make me feel so please just…”
Don’t leave me.
***
#fullsunnet#haechan smut#haechan fluff#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct smut#nct fluff#haechan x reader#haechan drabbles#nct timestamps#haechan timestamps#nct u#nct#nct dream#nct 127#lee donghyuck#nct dream imagines#nct dream scenarios#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#i don't know what the fuck did i just write#wrote this in like an hour or two????#i'm sorry you had to read this#mine#sundaysundaes
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daybreak | sal fisher x fem!reader - 9. hearts
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[warnings: mention of meth, swimming without pants on??, large body of water, momentary angst]
"why was it so easy for you to make it so hard for me?" —
You weren't drunk, but you were definitely not sober enough to comprehend how horrible the idea of being even relatively close to a large body of water whilst intoxicated was.
Ashley was not as much a lightweight as you'd proved to be, so she was virtually sober. the time you'd known her (just over a week) you'd come to know her as the most carefree of the group. She did things when she felt like it, and she did what she enjoyed.
Larry could be called carefree, as well—but he gave off more "I truly do not give one ounce of a fuck, and I will go along with any activity you want to do if I can smoke" vibes.
You hadn't figured Sal out yet. You tried not to think about it, but there were so many things you wondered about him. You'd seen his face. That had been your fault, and you were beginning to feel immense guilt for what you'd done.
You weren't going to inwardly speculate about what had happened to him—but you'd seen the look in his foggy blue gaze when he'd laid eyes on that dog at the party.
The car came to an abrupt halt, knocking you from your thoughts and lurching your body forward. Your eyes widened, and you look around frantically to figure out where you were or if you'd just had an accident—but turns out, you'd made it to Wendigo Lake.
"Well, you said you wanted to go to the lake," Ashley grinned, locking eyes with you.
You blink repeatedly, your pupils dilating to focus on the sight of the large body of water in front of you, glistening beneath the moonlight. A smile slowly etched into your face, and you reached to your right to open the passenger-side door.
It wasn't long before you'd reached the point where the slope began into a downward incline, your feet planted in the grass as you gazed down at the lake you knew had to be freezing—but the road-like reflection of moonlight on the water continued to call your name.
The breeze blew into your face.
You hadn't even heard the approaching footsteps and the crunching of grass when Larry, Ashley, and Sal walked up and joined you.
There was something melancholic about knowing that you were living in a moment you knew you'd miss.
"We should swim," you say, nonsensically.
Sal looks away from the lake and to you from his place on your right side. You turn your head to lock eyes with him.
"Y/N, someone's gonna get sick. I don't think you understand how cold this water gets-"
"Okay then," you mumble. "I should swim," you correct, "and if anyone wants to join me, they are more than welcome."
Larry and Ashley's laughter echoes into the dead air as you ambled down the slope, Sal standing there, watching—before following your lead.
"Let's think this over," he tries, matching your pace with ease. "You're going to regret it when you're shivering all the way home."
"Ashley can blast the heat."
"What if you drown?"
"I won't," you respond, "because you're getting in with me."
You're both stood on the shore of the lake now, locking eyes and regarding each other with your own equally stubborn determination.
"Hey!" You hear Larry's voice call from up the hill. The tension that's formed within the eye contact breaks once you've looked away from each other and peered up at the height of the slope.
"We're gonna go check out that forest over there," Ashley shouts, pointing towards the cluster of trees that were a measurable distance away. "Heard there's some gnarly satanic shit in there. Call if you need anything."
You exchange a glance with Sal.
"Alright," he yells back. "Don't get lost!"
"Can't promise that!" Larry sends both of you a grin before he and Ashley both head towards their destination, the sound of grass crunching steadily quieting as the distance between you grows.
When they're far enough away, you let out a quick sigh of relief. "Finally," you reach down to your shoes and began pulling them off, including socks.
You then reached down to the button of your jeans.
Sal yelps. "What're you doing?!"
You look up with raised eyebrows. "You think I'm swimming in these? I'll sink." You return your focus downward, pulling the zipper down and hook your thumbs around the waistband of your pants. "Nothing you haven't seen before."
It was almost excruciating to hide your sly smile as you bent at the waist to slide the denim down your legs. You stepped out of your jeans, pulled your phone from the pocket, and tossed the shed article of clothing farther up the hill, tossing your phone on top of it.
The device landed with a thud, resulting in an inward cringe on your part.
You didn't allow yourself to regard the fact that you were now standing in front of Sal with no pants on, so you just turned, stepped forward, and tested the water with a toe.
"Liar," you submerge a foot in, your body instinctively shivering against your will. "It's not that cold."
He scoffs, reaching down to rip his sneakers and socks off in your peripheral vision. "You're saying that now, but I'd like to hear the same thing when your bare legs are in there."
Sal tosses his shoes off near where you'd thrown yours along with his phone. He watches you submerge your other foot in, before following your lead.
Sal seems to handle it with a lot more ease than you, both feet now immersed in lake water. He doesn't seem to react physically, only standing with slack shoulders and his head tilted slightly upward. You watch the side profile of the prosthetic, and the way he lifts a hand and passes ringed fingers through vividly blue hair.
Moonlight illuminates the white face of the mask.
You can't see his real face, but you can picture him now. The tranquility of his expression, the curve of his dark eyelashes, his tongue passing over his lips...
The water is up to your calves now.
"I'm sorry," you murmur, angling your chin towards him. It's rushed, and sudden, and you momentarily doubt he even heard it beneath the rippling of water as he moves a bit closer.
"For what?" He asks, turning his head away from the moon and to look you in the eyes.
"I shouldn't have taken the prosthetic off without your permission. The guilt has been churning inside of me and I felt I needed to apologize for it eventually. I'm sorry."
Sal looks down, his eyes following the shape of your thighs before he locks gazes with you again. "You make me feel normal, Y/N. You'd never even asked about it before—and that means the world to me. I won't hold what you did against you."
"But..." you try, but he stops you.
"Y/N," he laughs sweetly. "Don't try and villainize yourself—you did nothing wrong. If anything... it was almost nice to know you weren't scared of seeing what was underneath."
You intake breath for the first time since the conversation began. You felt almost stupid, tears forming in your eyes as you stood within a freezing lake in just a crop top and your underwear.
"You should stop apologizing so much, too. You don't have anything to say sorry for."
"I'm sorry," you repeat, nonetheless.
He chuckles, fixing his gaze onto yours, an almost otherworldly perceptiveness burning in his striking eyes. "I understand how it feels to constantly find fault in yourself for something," he murmurs. "To live with it, to experience that guilt..."
You watch his Adam's apple bob. "It's hard."
A wave of despair washes over your body, and you don't even understand the context of Sal's statement. You're close to him now, and you can tell he's searching for an excuse to put an end to the topic—so you take his hand and divert attention elsewhere.
"Your rings," you utter, holding his hand delicately, looking over the silver and black rings that adorn his digits. "Where are they all from?"
He lifts his other hand for you so you have full access to every band that he's wearing on his fingers. Once he's shown you his right hand, two rings that seem to share the same theme catch your eye.
"I have a few more in my room," he replies, watching you trace a fingertip over the matching heart rings. "I don't know, I guess I collect them—some are gifted, some I've bought myself..."
"With whose money?" You tease, peering up at him through your lashes. The water swishes a little as Sal adjusts his weight.
His eyes squint a little, so you assume he grins. "I'm not dead broke if that's what you're insinuating."
"No, no," you trail off, looking back down at the rings with admiration. "I love these."
"Got them at the thrift store—something told me I would regret not buying them." He looks back up, stares into your downcast eyes for a long moment, and speaks again, "Why don't you have one?"
Your heart flutters. "You want to give me a ring?"
"Sure. Which one do you want?"
"Sal..." you can't help but smile, tracing his pale knuckle with the pad of your thumb. The swift breeze blows over your bare shoulders and conjures a shiver from your body. "You paid money for these. I don't want to take one from you."
"Don't you want a ring?"
You grin shyly. "Of course I do."
"Okay, pick."
You bite your lip nervously, sliding your finger over the silver ring with multiple black hearts engraved into the entire loop of the band. It didn't take much consideration—you'd fallen in love with the ring as soon as you'd laid eyes on it.
"This one," you audibly decide, meeting Sal's eyes anxiously.
Without another word, he eases the ring off of his middle finger and slides it onto yours. His hands are bigger than yours, and you fear it may not be small enough—but it does. It's a perfect fit.
"It was always kinda small on me," he began. "It's better for you."
You hold your hand out up and toward the moon, twisting it in different angles to examine the way the ring hugs your finger snugly.
You lower your hand back down to his, giggling. "We match now," you say softly, referring to the silver ring with the singular black heart that remained on his hand—the one that corresponded to the one now on yours.
As you absentmindedly turn his hand over, passing your eyes over his rings and the lines of his palms, you notice a faint bruising on his fingertips. Your eyebrows raise in alarm, and you meet his eyes and open your mouth to voice your concerns—but he beats you to the punch.
"It's from guitar strings," he murmurs. "Happens when I press too hard."
"Isn't that supposed to go away once you've played for a while? I've heard you mention once that playing the guitar isn't something new to you."
"Yeah, you're right. It is supposed to," Sal replies, intrigue on his tongue. "I don't know. I guess I'm weird."
You grin, stepping forward and submerged yourself further into the water—just enough so you were immersed up to your knees. You turned to face him. "I don't think you're weird. If you were weird, I wouldn't have gotten into a lake with you. At night... with no one else around. Oh, and with no pants on. That too."
Sal gestures his thumb over his shoulder. "Ash and Larry aren't far. If I were to murder you, they'd hear."
You shrug light-heartedly, bending just a bit to immerse your fingers into the water and flicking some towards him. "You could always cover my mouth and drown me. Effective and easy."
He raises his hands in poor defense, but the light splash still lands, lightly speckling his dark, long-sleeved shirt.
Sal bends just as you had (albeit a bit less, his arms were longer than yours) and splashes you gently. "After I've gifted you one of my prized possessions? Why would I do that?"
"That was only means to gain my trust!" You exclaim playfully, now using two hands to splash him.
"Splash me all you want, but I won't confess to something I'm not guilty of."
You stick your tongue out. "That's what they all say. You're only making yourself look stupid."
"I look stupid?" He laughs, pointing at himself before lowering his hand to splash you with a flick of the wrist. "You're the one with no pants on—in a lake, at night. If you die of hypothermia, it won't be anyone's fault but yours."
"All the more reason for you to murder me in cold blood."
"You're making no sense. Are you still drunk?"
"Ugh!" You groan dramatically, splashing him with much more vigor than the previous few times. He genuinely recoils this time, holding his hands out in defense before dropping them. A light shower rains down over his head, just barely dampening his hair and casting a wet sheen on the prosthetic.
"I'm not intoxicated! How dare you!"
Sal genuinely laughs from his chest, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting him. "I can't believe this," he says, running his hands through his hair.
You roll your eyes and move to immerse yourself in the lake water further, the questionable liquid sloshing around your thighs. That's when you hear a familiar two voices, laughing and yelling, and growing closer.
You and Sal turn to each other—Sal being a lot less concerned than you.
"Oh no," you murmur, looking down at yourself. "I have no pants on!"
Sal laughs (his laughter is normally a sound you genuinely enjoy hearing, but now it's obnoxious because it's not what you need to hear right now) and flits his eyes over you amusedly. "I can see that."
"Larry's a guy! He can't see me in my underwear!"
You look out at the open land, looking for your friends' approaching figures worriedly, but you see no one. You hear splashing as Sal continuously closes the distance between you both. "Yeah, I am too."
You roll your eyes, mutter something about boys never understanding anything, and start trudging through the water, back towards the shore.
Sal follows you through your efforts until you've stepped onto land, remaining perfectly patient even though the coldness of the water slowed your movements the entire journey.
He walks forward and tosses your jeans at you, along with your shoes, then sliding your phone in his pocket along with his device for safekeeping.
"I don't have a towel," you mumble. "My legs are too wet. I'll never get these on in time."
Sal blinks at you after somehow already getting his socks on. "Roll in the grass," he quips tightly like he's holding in a laugh. "That'll dry you off."
You scrunch your nose up and throw your shoe at him. It lands, bouncing off of his head with an audible thump, and then lands in the grass.
"Ow," he deadpans, placing a palm on the place the sneaker had just bounced from. "Geez, how hard can you throw?"
"Hard," you snark, wrestling your pants up your wet legs. Eventually, by the grace of whatever existential forces may exist, you managed to pull the denim up and over your hips.
You're zipping up your fly when Ashley and Larry finally appear.
"Dude," Larry gasps like he's been sprinting, bending to place his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. "Dude."
You and Sal stare at him curiously.
"There was a-a homeless guy!"
Ashley's laughing hysterically, and Larry doesn't evaluate, so Sal asks for context. "You're gonna have to evaluate, Larry. What do you mean there was a homeless guy?"
"Some dude was living in the woods! Had a whole fuckin' setup! I'm pretty sure he was cooking meth?!"
Sal just blinks repeatedly, like he was astounded, and couldn't believe that this was happening right now. "Did you guys bother him?"
"No," Ashley wheezes. "As soon as we saw him we bounced."
You're slipping on your shoes when Sal speaks again. "Yeah, maybe we should go..."
Larry finally stands up straight and starts up the slope, running his hands through his brown hair that's been messed while running. "Then in the name of the Lord, let's fucking get out of here."
You keep the seating arrangement you'd had on the way to the lake—girls in the front, boys in the back.
As soon as every door of the Ford Fiesta is shut, and the car becomes alive once again, the heat is immediately turned up. You breathe out a sigh of relief, leaning your head back against the headrest and allowing the hot air to blow against the cold flesh of your neck and shoulders. Your thoughts wandered as total relief washed over your body.
"Your jeans are dry," Ashley comments idly, startling you out of your reverie.
You hear what sounds like a laugh quickly concealed by a faux cough emanate from the backseat.
"Yeah," you reply dumbly. Ash stares at you, probably expecting you to say something else, but your mind goes blank, so she doesn't ask any further questions.
"Did I say he had no pants on?!" Larry suddenly blurts, clearly still mildly traumatized. "Everything was- it was just hanging out!"
Ashley cringes. "Don't put that image back into my mind, Larry."
"It wouldn't be the first person half-naked at Wendigo," Sal quips, locking eyes with you in the rearview mirror. No one questions his statement, most likely taking it as a reference to the infamous chaotic nature of that whole area—but you understand, sending him a contemptuous squint.
Ashley loops the car around to the exit path and it isn't very long before the vehicle is back on the road.
As heat sinks into your skin, reaches your cold bones, and the excitement slows down—your thought process de-thaws. You stare out of the window, watching the streetlights as they pass and listening to the sound of an acoustic guitar on the radio.
The music grows louder and drones in your ears. It's not even an electric guitar, but you still think of Sal, and his bruised fingertips. You twist his ring on your finger, running your opposite thumb over the heart-shaped indentations of the band.
Your mind wanders again. You think of that day in the storage room at the school, and that night in his father's car.
Eventually, you'd return the favor. You wanted him to feel as good as he'd made you feel. You owed it to him—and twice over.
But you'd have to wait. Patience was key—and all locked doors needed them.
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